


Tanabata

by Tennyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cowboy Dean, Don't Judge Me, Historical AU, Independence Day - Freeform, Marriage of Convenience, Misunderstandings, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Summer Fic, but not necessarily ACCURATE, carpentry, farming, secret gay relationship, talk of having children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Kansas prairie during the late 1800's, Castiel Shurley (who lived across the river) was a distraction for Dean Winchester. (Inspired by the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. So, this is a story VERY LOOSELY based on the original Chinese story of the Cowherd and the Weaver. The Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese hold festivals on the seventh day of the seventh month (depending on what calendar they're using). The Japanese call this festival day Tanabata. I included a link with more information at the end of chapter 2. 
> 
> NOTE: Do Not Expect this to be historically accurate. While I did some research on the era (MUCH more than I expected), there’s only so much effort I’m willing to put into a (relatively) short story. If something seems too anachronistic, let me know and suggest an alternative.
> 
> Also, while I don't specifically state a specific year, I aimed for around 1889/1890 for my research. I couldn't decide on a firm year.
> 
> Thanks to GlassClosetCastiel for the beta.

Spring in Kansas this year had brought sporadic rains, and Dean was glad he had his oilskin when he took off this morning. By the time he got back, his horse was shivering, and the brim of his hat dripped with moisture. Upon returning home, he got his little brother Adam to take the horse to the barn for grooming, and headed inside.

He found his stepmother Kate sitting by a window, darning a sock. “Hello Dean, your ride go well?”

“Yeah, pretty much. There’s a fence pole down on the North end of the property, but since the cattle are grazing the West, it shouldn’t be an issue until I can get Rufus to help me fix it. Crop’s just starting to sprout, let’s hope we don’t get a late frost.”

Dean washed his hands at the kitchen sink, and looked out the window, across the river to the neighbors there. Damn Shurleys. They’d built a homestead across the river over a decade earlier, and raised sheep. _Sheep_. Yeah, it was nice to trade for wool, but the thought of those scabby, bleating animals anywhere near his cattle made him scowl. At least they couldn’t cross the swift-moving river’s steep banks. Yet.

If there was a summer drought, then the river got low enough that the nasty beasts could hop across the rocks and climb the banks. That meant they had to construct a plank bridge to chase them back across, with the help of the Shurleys, of course.

Their family was large, and every single one of them was weird. The two oldest boys, twins Michael and Luke, had decided to take up the family trade, and remained at home to take care of the flock. The second (or third?) youngest, Hannah, had married a city boy and moved out to California. Next in line, Gabriel; he ran the goods shop in the town closest to their home, and visited often. Then there was Castiel. He was probably the smartest of the bunch, and went to college back East, and was the school teacher over in the same town as Gabriel. Then there were the two youngest, Anna and Hael. Who named a kid Hael anyway?  Or Castiel for that matter? Anna had recently married the local pastor, and Hael was still in school.

Dean wouldn’t even know that much, if his stepmom wasn’t such a gossip and took to chatting with Naomi, the Shurley matron, via letter during most months, and then chatting in-person when it was dry enough to meet at the river bed. He personally didn’t care, because they lived on the other side of the river, visited a different town, and except for the yearly exchange of wool and leather (and the occasional escaped sheep), he had no reason to interact with that family.

Thinking of family made him think of his own, and it made him pensive. His mom had died when he was very small, from illness. Sammy, his full brother, was still just a baby, and their father had struggled to raise the both of them, until he met Kate Milligan. She’d agreed to marry him, and take care of the two boys.

They had lived in Lawrence, but after marrying Kate, John had decided that living in the city was too much for him, and he’d moved them all further west, to their new home. But even then, he was restless. Having been a former soldier in the Great Rebellion, John Winchester had come back home to Kansas, married his sweetheart Mary, and started a family. He’d gotten a job building and repairing carriages.

But fighting a war and losing the love of his life had left him a changed man. Soon after getting their home established, John had taken off to participate in cattle drives. There was good money in the yearly endeavor, but it left his wife, two boys, and new baby alone for months at a time.

If it wasn’t for the neighboring farmers, Dean didn’t think they would have survived. That’s how he became such good friends with Rufus Turner, an “exoduster” from the South who wanted a better life for his family. Rufus was a stern black man who helped Dean farm their land at an early age. His wife Joelle, son Carl, and daughter Rachel had taken the Winchesters into their hearts, and as a result, both families now shared crops and cattle grazing space.

At the age of thirteen, John began taking Dean along with him on his annual cattle drives. While he’d felt bad about leaving his stepmother and two younger brothers behind, he’d been excited at the prospect of being considered man enough to join his father. But the job was rough, it left him saddle-sore, and he learned very quickly about sexuality among men in the isolated wilderness. Thankfully, his father kept away the men that could have caused him physical harm.

Since he was one of the youngest, and the most green, Dean was one of the tail riders, or “dust eaters” who followed the herds. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. With nothing to do but guide his horse and squint through the dust and breathe through his bandanna, Dean would worry about his family, and the farm. Were they doing okay? Was the river low enough for the damn Shurley sheep to come across? Who was chasing them back over?

Dean was snapped from his reverie by Kate waving a hand in front of his face. When he turned to her, she was giving him a concerned look. “Are you alright, dear? You’ve been staring out the window for a while now.”

“Yeah, sorry. Lost in my own thoughts.”

She gave his a small smile and a pat on the shoulder. “You want to help me prepare supper?”

With a nod, he began the preparations for fried chicken and biscuits. Once he’d butchered the chicken, he realized it was way too quiet. “Hey, where are Sammy and Adam?”

“After they finished their chores, they were supposed to go pick wild greens. Should be back soon.”

Dean didn’t like the thought of the boys being out there alone. True, Sam was almost sixteen, and he would be leaving for college soon. That boy was so smart. Dean was proud his little brother was going to get a higher education, but he’d miss having him around. The thought of the boys out in the wild where the snakes were starting to come out of their nests…

There was the sound of youthful laughter, and two muddy boys came barreling through the front door, a basket full of greens held between them. Immediately, Kate turned to them and pointed them right back out onto the porch.

“No mud on my clean floors! Out!”

They dropped the basket and headed for the rain barrel to wash off. Dean chuckled, and picked up the basket, checking to make sure the boys hadn’t gotten anything poisonous mixed in. It all looked good, so he rinsed the greens and set them aside so he could get started on the biscuits.

With his hands coated in flour and rolling out dough, Dean thought back to when he was Adam’s age, returning from his first drive. By the time they had made it back home, it was almost time to worry about the harvest, and Dean was glad to be back on solid ground, instead of constantly moving on the back of a horse. He had been almost happy to chase sheep out of their gardens with the help of the Shurleys. That was also the year he found out that Castiel was going away to college.

It shouldn’t have mattered, really. It wasn’t like they really saw each other during the winter months, anyway. But when Dean found out the boy would be leaving, he had the irrational urge to keep Castiel from going away. He even went as far as intentionally trying to lure the sheep across the river with sweet grasses. But Castiel went away right after harvest, and it left Dean feeling a loneliness he couldn’t describe.

Once again lost in thought, Dean’s hands had automatically continued with their task, and the biscuits were cut out and waiting to be placed in the oven.

After supper, Dean had Sam and Adam help clean up while he sat in a wooden chair on the porch and watched the sun set. He’d have to go see Rufus tomorrow to work on fixing the fence post, and anything else that Rufus needed help with. When Kate felt sure the boys would stay on task, she joined him on the porch, but didn’t sit. After a few shared moments of watching the darkening sky, Dean turned to her.

“Do you ever miss Dad?”

She turned to him with a sad smile. “All the time. Why?”

“Why haven’t you found someone else to marry?”

“Oh, honey. Who’s going to want a woman past her prime, with three young men?”

“Well, I’m already an adult, and Sammy’s leaving for college soon. You should try to find someone.”

“And separate Adam from his brothers when I leave with my new husband?” She sighed and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Yes, there are times I get lonely for… companionship. But I chose this life years ago, and have dedicated myself to making the best of the situation. When I married John, I never dreamed I’d end up in a homestead in the middle of nowhere, with three wonderful young men I had a hand in raising.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “But you know what? I’m happy. Maybe not as social as I’d like to be, but happy.”

Kate slid her hand off of Dean’s shoulder and turned toward the door. “Besides, who else would do the washing and mend everyone’s clothes while you work all day?” With that, she swished her skirts and went back inside.

Dean knew that was a mild jab at the fact that he hadn’t really had much social interaction lately, either. Except for the occasional trip into town to pick up supplies, it had been a dry year. The girls he normally frequented seemed to have lost their appeal. The bawdy girls all knew him, and were eager enough, but…

Besides, he was getting tired of paying for it, although he was sure most of them would let him have it for free by that point. He was well known for being a generous lover in those circles. And he didn’t want to ruin a nice girl, because Dean knew he wasn’t ready for marriage yet. Sighing, he wiped his hand down his face and rocked himself upright. Tonight would require a stiff drink from the flask he kept behind his bed.

* * *

 

Late spring brought with it growing crops, and a late calf birth. It also brought tornadoes, and this year was a close one. The O’Connels downriver needed to build a new barn, thanks to a twister touching down on top of their old one. Other than a little roof damage, the Winchesters came out mostly unscathed.

Dean sat on the roof with Adam, showing him how to patch the shingles, when he saw a cart coming up the path to their house. They weren’t expecting visitors, so Dean quickly scrambled down the ladder, helped Adam down, and went for his gun belt inside, just in case. As the cart got closer, he could make out the dandified clothing of a city man and frowned. There was even a derby perched jauntily on the man’s head.

Dean remained on his porch and waited until the cart stopped just a few feet away. There was no mistaking who had driven over. It was Castiel Shurley, in his finest city clothes. _What the hell was he doing here, anyway?_ Dean surreptitiously swiped his hand through his hair, hoping it was laying down. There was no helping the clothes he was wearing, and he knew there was a stain on the front of the cotton shirt he had on. But he was expecting to work on a roof, not receive company.

Blue eyes flashed at him, and a smile lit up Castiel’s face as he tied off the reins before climbing down from his seat. Dean couldn’t help but notice Castiel still hadn’t grown out any facial hair yet. He also couldn’t help but notice that the new fashion included tighter fitting trousers, and they hugged the man’s rear in the best way. Swallowing, Dean adjusted his gun belt as Castiel made his way around the horse. Since Dean was on the porch, he stood several inches higher than Castiel, and the man took off his hat to look back up at Dean, revealing styled, dark hair, that brilliant smile still in place.  

“Hello Dean, how have you been?”

Dean blinked for a brief moment, before he realized he needed to answer. “Uh, fine Cas. How’s school teaching on the other side of the river?”

Castiel looked away, squinting in the sunlight. “About that… Turns out I wasn’t really suited for teaching.”

Not knowing how to reply to that, Dean invited him in, and offered him something to drink. “We’ve got water and tea.”

Accepting a glass of water, Castiel sat down in a chair and sipped at it. While trying to think of something to talk about, Dean realized he was home by himself. Kate had gone to the river to do washing, Sam was out checking the herd, and Adam had disappeared to who knows where. He rubbed his hands on the knees of his trousers, trying to will them to stop sweating.

“So. Sam’s going to college after harvest.”

Castiel placed his glass on the table and nodded. “I’ve heard. Congratulations.”

While he was still torn about Sam leaving, he couldn’t help but smile with pride. “Kid’s real smart. He could be anything he wants to be.”

“Yes, the university he’ll be attending has several excellent programs.”

They fell into another silence, Dean with his hands braced on his knees, Castiel with his hands folded politely in his lap. This time, Castiel broke the silence. “It’s too bad you didn’t have the opportunity to attend college, Dean. You are also quite intelligent.”

Dean could feel his cheeks heat at the compliment, and he stared down at the floor. “Naw, I’m not much for school learnin’. Just gimme something to grow or cattle to chase, and I’m happy.”

The look Castiel gave him was piercing, like he was looking into his soul. “As long as you’re satisfied. But don’t sell yourself short, Dean. You too could probably be anything you wish.”

With a half shrug, Dean glanced up and got caught by those brilliant blue eyes. They were always unfair, those eyes. Blue as the center of the cloudless summer sky, and about as deep, with ripples like sunlight through water. He’d heard stories of ocean water being blue, and Dean imagined that the color would match. Realizing he’d been staring, he tried to find something to talk about that couldn’t get turned back on him.

“So, what happened with the teaching thing?” At that, Castiel looked away. Something had happened. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Let’s just say that male school teachers aren’t a good idea when most of the older students are girls.”

 _WHAT_?! Castiel was blushing now, and he refused to look up at Dean. He felt his stomach sink, and a wave of something he couldn’t define washed over him. Oh crap, had Castiel done something to get himself  in trouble?

“No, Cas,” Dean whispered, “Tell me you didn’t…”

Wide blue eyes looked up to meet his. “No, _NO_! It’s not what you think. It’s just…” Castiel ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his tie. “The older girls kept asking me to marry them,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

The sour feeling intensified, and Dean couldn’t help but huff out a burst of bitter laughter. “So what, Cas? Did their daddies get mad at you?”

“No!” Castiel’s face kept getting redder, and Dean attempted a teasing look..

“It’s just…” With a deep sigh, Castiel’s shoulders slumped. “There was one, she was very… forward. She cornered me once, while everyone was outside during break. She…” His eyes took on a panicked look, “She touched me inappropriately.”

 _Oh_. Dean swallowed at that remark. He knew what it was like to be groped on without permission, among other things. “What did you do, Cas?” he asked softly.

“I ran,” Castiel mumbled, hands clasped tightly between his knees, knuckles white. “I left everyone behind and I just ran, almost all the way home before I couldn’t anymore.” His voice was full of shame. “I’m not suitable to teach, if I can’t handle situations like….” Castiel pursed his lips, brows scrunched together in consternation.

“Hey,” Dean placed a hand on top of Castiel’s. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known she would—” He couldn’t finish that sentence. While this wasn’t remotely like what had happened to him, he choked on the words, as memories of his own ordeals on the trail came flooding back.

“It’s not your fault, Cas,” he managed to whisper.

They sat there for a brief moment, before the sound of boots clomping on the porch jolted them from their thoughts. Dean yanked his hand back a scant second before Sam came barreling into the house.

“Dean, who’s here? Oh, hi Castiel!”

Castiel plastered on a smile, and stood up to greet Sam. He wore a look of surprise when the boy gave him a quick hug. “You’ve grown even more since I last saw you. By this time next year you’ll be taller than your brother.”

Dean hadn’t been paying attention recently, but looking between Castiel and Sam, he could see they were almost the same height, just an inch or two shorter than Dean. Shit. Sam was practically sixteen, birthday just a handful of days away, and if he kept growing, he would be taller. He looked down at the cuffs of Sam’s trousers, and sure enough they weren’t rolled up anymore, and he’d need new ones soon.

“Oh!” Sam turned to Dean. “By the way. That newborn calf is feeding normally, and the others aren’t being too aggressive with him.”

Dean nodded and gave Sam a big grin. “That’s great.” He really wished he could keep his brother here, since he did so well with the animals. But Sam had bigger and better things ahead of him, and Dean would be a complete asshole for preventing that from happening.

Sam turned to Castiel. “So, whatcha doing here?”

Castiel informed them he was going to start a clothier shop with a focus on custom tapestry and embroidery work. Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and opened his mouth, “Wow Cas, I didn’t know you could do all that girly stuff.”

“Dean!” Sam gave him a disapproving frown.

“It’s fine, Sam,” Cas turned to Dean. “It’s something I’ve done as a hobby, with my mother. Remember that winter I caught the cough and was forced to stay in bed? She taught me knitting, embroidery, and how to use a loom.”

And while Dean was glad Cas wasn’t particularly upset by his remark, he still had to ask, “That’s great, Cas, but why are you _here_? Visiting us?”

He could swear there was a flash of disappointment across Castiel’s face. “Oh, well I was dropping off some samples at the goods store and clothier in your town, along with my contact information if anyone wanted to request a custom item.” Castiel gave a shy half smile, clasped his hands together, and stared at the floor. “Since it’s been a while, figured, it would be polite to stop and say hello.”

After giving Dean a pointed look and rolling his eyes in exasperation, (what was that about, anyway?) Sam asked Castiel, “That’s great, Cas. But what about your job as a schoolteacher?”

Noticing the slight look of panic Cas had at the question, Dean interrupted, “Turns out, Cas here ain’t up to the task of dealing with a bunch of whiny brats.”

“Oh…” Sam looked confused, but chose to drop it. “Lemme go tell Kate we’ve got company. You plan on staying for supper, right Cas?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“No, Cas, you’re welcome to stay. It’s gonna be a long drive back anyway. Might as well get a good meal out of it, right?” Dean cocked his head, and gave him a sideways smile that seemed to say, ‘how about it?’

“If you’re sure…”

Sam was out the door like a shot, long gangly legs hurtling him to where Kate usually did the washing. That left Dean alone with Castiel again, and they stood there in silence for a moment. Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean said, “Well, supper won’t be much. Just beans, the rabbit Sam shot yesterday, and some pickled vegetables. I, ahhh...” he waved his hand at the ceiling. “I was in the middle of some repairs, and kinda need to finish that.”

“Do you think I could help?” asked Castiel.

After taking in the sight of Cas’ duds, the ribbon tie with the starched, pointy collar, the paisley waistcoat, and the fine trousers, he sincerely doubted the man would want to climb up on the roof and hammer shingles. “I don’t want to ruin your clothes climbing around on the roof with me.”

At that, Castiel smiled, and took off his coat. He folded it and laid it over the top of a high back chair. Then he took off the waistcoat and rolled up his sleeves, placing his cuffs, collar, and ribbon on top of the table, along with his hat. “I’m not a complete dandy,” he said with a small smile.

Dean stood there, looking Castiel up and down in his shirtsleeves. The shirt had a pale blue pinstripe that really brought out the color of his eyes. “Uh,” Dean gestured to the collar of the shirt, “Why don’t you unbutton it?”

Castiel’s slim fingers popped open the top button of the linen shirt, exposing his throat. _There, now it looks right_ , Dean thought, as he gave the man a once-over, taking in the unusually tidy hair, held in place and shiny with some kind of pomade. “Yeah. Good. Alright. So,” Dean headed toward the door. “You do what I say, and be careful. I probably can’t afford those trousers.”

Castiel squinted at him, as they emerged into the sunlight. “I have helped repair a roof before. And besides,” he grasped the sides of the ladder and placed a foot on the bottom rung. “They’re not as expensive as you think.”

Dean followed Castiel up the ladder, trying to not ogle the man’s rear as he ascended. But with each step, he couldn’t help but notice strong legs, and the way the fabric clung to his behind. They spent about an hour finishing the roof, which involved Dean hitting his thumb with the hammer, and Castiel’s hair getting a little messy from the effort.

By the time they climbed down, they were talking about the overpriced freight fees the railway companies charged, and what some farmers thought they could do about the matter. Dean was hesitant to join the Kansas Farmer’s alliance, because he usually only produced enough grain for local sale, and his cattle were sold before needing rail transport. Castiel, however, felt that the higher prices for Kansans charged by the rail companies compared to more affluent Eastern states were completely unfair, and someone had to stand up to them. Dean didn’t really care, as long as he got a good price for his grain and beef.

While they stood at the rain barrel, washing up, Castiel continued his argument. “But if they charged less for transport, you’d get a better sale price, because the buyer wouldn’t be stressing the transport costs.”

Dean wasn’t really paying that much attention at that point, as he’d caught a whiff of Castiel’s natural scent, musky with a hint of cinnamon, mixed with the herbal scent of cologne and pomade. Damp hair curled behind Castiel’s ear, and he had the ridiculous urge to brush it back, letting his fingers trail down his neck. But he fought that urge, and instead dried his hands off on his kerchief, and kept them wrapped up in the fabric as Castiel used a white cotton handkerchief to daub the moisture from his face and neck. A random thought of wondering if the man tasted like he smelled was interrupted by Adam calling out from across the yard.  

Glad for the distraction from his own odd thoughts, Dean turned to see Adam holding a large basket of laundry, with Kate following behind, another large basket in her arms. Sam was talking with her, his hands out like he was pleading to take the basket, but she shook her head and kept walking. Telling Castiel to wait right there, Dean was off the porch and over to where Kate was still stubbornly hauling her heavy basket of wet clothes.

“Why won’t you let Sam help? These are too damn heavy for you to carry all the way back.” He forced the basket out of her hands, and carried it himself.

“Because soon enough, he’s not going to be around, and I’m not an old woman yet!”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. Kate was an incredibly strong woman, and sometimes he wondered how his father had ended up with her. “You should still use him while you got him. Strong, strapping boys are meant to be used like pack mules.”

“Hey!” Sam took offense at that, and Dean turned to shove the basket in Sam’s arms.

“You and Adam go hang those out to dry.”

As the boys  made their way around to the other side of the house to hang laundry, Adam grunted a greeting to Castiel, who waved at him, handkerchief flapping. Dean internally groaned, because it made him look like a pansy. Well, okay, with his sleeves rolled up exposing tanned, muscular forearms, and top shirt button undone, he hardly looked effeminate. As long as he wasn’t waving that handkerchief around.

Dean couldn’t figure out what it was about Castiel that kept making him have these thoughts. Before he could get any more lost in them, Kate was talking to Castiel about how to prepare the rabbit for supper.

Later that evening, after seeing Castiel off with a full belly, the man insisting he'd be fine to get home after dark, Dean lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with the wavering light of a single candle. He thought about Castiel’s career change from schoolteacher to clothier. Just thinking about some schoolgirl trying to grope on the man made his stomach sour. It also made him think about his experiences cattle driving after his first year.

His second cattle drive, they got a new trail boss. His name was Alistair. He was a cruel and creepy man, who leered at Dean. That year, the other boys of similar age picked on him, called him a cowgirl. He couldn’t help his large eyes and full lips, and he tried to hide them by keeping his bandana pulled up and hat lowered.

But that didn’t keep Alistair from noticing him. The trail boss frequently pulled dean to the side for “special lessons” on how to be a cowboy. They weren’t pleasant, and many times, he had to shorten the stirrup straps so he could hold himself up off the saddle. But he dare not tell his father, because they didn’t get paid until the cattle were delivered. If John lost his pay because he called out the trail boss for having his way with John’s son, it would be Dean’s fault.

Besides, the other boys his age were used similarly by other cowboys as well. It was just what happened. Luckily, after a couple more years, and one of the worst winters in recent history, the demand for cattle drivers lessened.

John decided to raise his own cattle, and expanded the farm to include a small ranch. He chose an interwoven five-point-star as his brand, and they had been doing a brisk business after their first calves came to maturity. But then, a couple of years ago, John had gotten bitten by a snake. They never did find out what kind, although they usually saw rattlesnakes around here. John had come home draped over the back of his horse and collapsed at their doorstep. He didn’t survive long after, and died in terrible pain.

If it hadn’t been for Rufus and his family, Dean’s family might not have survived that year.

Shaking his head, Dean tried to dislodge those terrible thoughts. He snuffed out his candle and rolled over to try to sleep.

* * *

 

As spring progressed into summer, it was already getting hot and dry. They’d need to fill the rain bucket from the river soon. Not to mention chasing sheep off their property. Dean had been surprised at first, seeing Castiel sitting on his family’s porch, weaving or sewing. But apparently, until he got established, he was using Gabriel’s store as a base of operations. Even while at home, Castiel dressed all dapper, with a waistcoat, collar, and ribbon tie. They would wave to each other, if one happened to notice the other.

Kate had made a comment that Dean was smiling more often, but he waved it off as just being happy that the herd was doing well, or that the crops weren’t shrivelling in the heat. He would never tell that he secretly enjoyed watching from afar the progress of some personal creation of Castiel’s on the loom. It seemed to be something similar to an Indian design, but completely of the man’s own creation. He used zigzags, squares, and diamonds around the border, and the central design seemed to be something with wings. The designs were being done in neutral tones, with white, blue, and black. Dean hoped he got to see the thing up close when it was finished.

The O’Connels would be having their barn raising next week, and Dean was showing up for it. There was going to be an informal picnic for everyone that helped. That, Dean wasn’t looking forward to, because there would be young ladies of marriageable age, looking to get hitched. And Dean wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. At least not yet.

He had grown up here, and was used to how things were. Mix in the responsibilities of a wife and children of his own? Besides, he was still young, and still had about five years at least before he really needed to think about settling down with his own family. But that didn’t seem to matter to the women near his age. He’d have to put up with perfumed lacy kerchiefs, and coy looks with lots of giggling. Carl, Rufus’ son, said it was because Dean was pretty, like a girl himself. That usually ended in a wrestling match until one had the other in a headlock.

At the barn raising, Dean and the other men in the community built a better barn than had been there before the tornado. There were ham and beef sandwiches, cookies and cakes, and tarts. The neighboring young women were there as well. Dressed in light floral patterns with plenty of ruffles and ribbons, they flocked around the bachelors, twittering like birds. Hell, Joanna Beth’s bonnet even had a whole bird perched upon it. Dean felt sorry not only for the poor dead thing with its wings outstretched over her head, but the taxidermist who had to stuff it.

Once the structure was finished, the local pastor led them in prayer, everyone holding hands in a circle around the barn in blessing. As everyone was packing to go home, Benny Lafitte, the owner of the town’s hotel and boarding house, announced that he knew a man who could get them fireworks for this year’s Independence Day festivities. That revived everyone’s spirits, and people began planning a grand picnic for the day that was a month away.

Dean just wanted to go home. He was tired from hauling lumber and wielding a hammer all day, and he was sure there were at least half a dozen splinters to pick out of his skin. The younger boys were still full of energy, and Sam asked if he could stay overnight. Dean allowed it, and then Adam wanted to stay too. Dean made sure the boys understood they were to be home at the earliest opportunity, for there were obligations at home. In reality, while Dean wanted to spend as much time with Sam as he could while he was still around, he didn’t want his brother to resent him for monopolizing his time before he left.

Kate rode home with Rufus’ family in a cart, and Dean hopped into the saddle astride his horse. Most men would feel embarrassed riding a mare, but he felt right at home astride his working partner. He had trained her since she was a foal, and they were inseparable. Only in private did he call her Baby. With a shiny black coat, she was beautiful, with a white stripe running from forelock to nose, socks on her forelegs, stockings behind. When he was in the saddle, they were of one mind, and he never needed more than the touch of a knee or shift of weight to tell her where to go.

With the sun setting behind him, lighting the Kansan landscape in golds, he let her loose, and she broke into a run. Baby knew the way home, and Dean trusted her to adjust her pace to whatever she wanted. Wind in his hair, Dean closed his eyes and smiled, feeling the steady and sure gait of his girl taking him home.

They slowed as they neared the house, automatically entering cool-down pacing. She headed for the trough as soon as they got to the barn, and Dean loosened the girth of the saddle, and then began the grooming process. As soon as Baby was tucked away snugly in her stall, Dean made his way back to the house, still dark since he was the first one home. Kate would probably take the opportunity of having no young boys at home to visit with Joelle.

Leaning against a post, Dean looked up at the night sky. He wasn’t very good with constellations, but knew some of the stories. He stared up at the stars, making out the Milky Way, and then he heard it —the bleat of a sheep on the wrong side of the river. Better to at least get it contained now, before it tried to get at their vegetable garden.

Lantern in hand, Dean chased down the wayward sheep and got a rope around its neck. While he was trying to figure out where to tie the damn thing up until morning, he heard a deep voice call across the river.

“Dean? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Cas. Caught a sheep making a go at Kate’s flowers.” While not entirely true, Dean wasn’t against guilting the Shurleys into actively trying to keep their animals on their side of the river. He looked to see the man holding up a lantern at the far side’s river bank, the soft light making his face glow in the darkness.

“If you like, we can set up the plank bridge and I’ll take it home tonight,” called out Castiel.

On one hand, the thought of getting the plank bridge set up at night sounded ridiculous. On the other hand, getting rid of the sheep tonight sounded like a really good idea. Especially if it meant visiting with Castiel.

With a couple extra lanterns to light their work, they managed to get the plank bridge in place, and Dean walked the sheep across. After all that work, he didn’t feel like just heading back home, so he stood there with his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back.

“Nice night tonight.” _You sound stupid_ , he told himself.

Too embarrassed to see Castiel’s reaction, Dean kept his eyes focused on the sky. After a brief moment, he heard an acknowledging hum.

“Yes, the lack of moonlight makes the stars more noticeable.”

He almost closed his eyes at the sound of Castiel’s deep rumble, and gestured with his chin. “D’you know much about the stars, Cas?”

Finally looking away from the multitude of bright points in the sky, Dean watched Castiel smile. “As a matter of fact, I was part of the astronomy club in college.”

“Is that so?” Dean’s mouth drew up in a half smile. “Well, professor, what do you know?”

“Just a moment.” Castiel dashed inside the house, and emerged with an old Indian blanket. “It will be easier on our necks if we’re not craning to look up.” Finding a section of yard not lit by windows, he spread out the blanket and sat on it, knees drawn to his chest. “It will be much more comfortable this way, I promise.”

With a gulp, Dean sat down near the edge of the blanket, and wrapped his arms around his knees. He was determined to not get close enough to catch Castiel’s scent, afraid he’d react in some embarrassing way. As Castiel pointed out some constellations and stars, Dean ended up scooting closer, just so he could more easily figure out where he was pointing. When Dean recognized a constellation, he shared stories he’d learned on the trail.

“...and Vega,” Castiel pointed at a star in the eastern sky, “was the first star to ever be photographed.”

“You don’t say.” Dean turned to look at Castiel, and realized just how close they were, shoulders brushing and heads leaning close. Clearing his throat, he straightened up, pulling away from the heat of Castiel’s body in the cooling night air.

“Um, well, I…” Castiel stammered. Hand raised again, he pointed to another star across the Milky Way from Vega. “And that’s Altair. Both stars are named for eagles, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” Castiel lowered his arm and turned to Dean. “Vega’s name comes from an Arabic phrase for Falling Eagle, and Altair’s for Flying Eagle.”

“That’s…” Den turned his eyes to those two stars, separated by the river of lights in between. “That’s pretty awesome, Cas.”

Castiel gave him an odd look, and Dean was glad his blush was hidden in the darkness. “I mean, you know all these things, and can just point to a star, and they’re up there shining far away, and… yeah.”

Turning away from Castiel’s gaze, Dean noticed a light burning in the kitchen window at home. Kate had returned, and must have noticed Dean across the river. “So… it’s getting late, I should, umm…”

“Oh, of course,” Castiel said, “I’m sure you have an early morning ahead of you, and here I am, keeping you up with fanciful stories.”

“No, I liked them. It was, it was nice.” Definitely blushing now. Time to go. They stood up, and Dean stretched while Castiel gathered the blanket. As Dean turned to go home, he thought of something and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way. We’re going to have fireworks in town for Independence Day.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“Yeah. If you don’t have plans, or fireworks, you could... you know, cross the river and maybe come to the picnic before that?”

There was a smile in Castiel’s voice as he answered, “That sounds lovely, Dean. I would be happy to join in the festivities.”

“Great.” Dean nearly tripped over his feet while crossing the plank bridge over the river. Blaming it on tiredness, Dean purposefully neglected to take it down. He’d do it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blacks in Kansas: Kansas was part of the Union during the Civil War.  
> Rufus is an "Exoduster," one of the Southern Blacks that migrated to Kansas in the late 1800's. There was a large migration around 1879. Kansas was considered one of the states more accepting of Blacks at the time.
> 
> I did not specify which towns they lived near, because there were a BUNCH in Kansas during those years. I also couldn't make up my mind exactly where to place their farms and keep the geography accurate, so fudged it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer festivities, and a misunderstanding.  
> Castiel tells Dean a story that sounds vaguely familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is unbeta'd
> 
> Alright, I apologize.  
> First of all,I should have posted this over a week ago.  
> Second of all, this has taken on a life of its own, and there will be one more chapter to tie it off. 
> 
> See the end of the chapter for notes about the story Castiel tells.

When July 4th finally arrived, Castiel, his brother Gabriel, and youngest sister Hael, as well as their mother, rode with Dean’s family in their wagon into town. The rest of the Shurleys were remaining at home, or were joining in their own town’s festivities. Both Gabriel and Hael had been enticed by the prospect of fireworks.

Dean drove, with Sam and Adam on the bench on either side of him. Kate sat in the back with their guests, making sure the food they brought didn’t get knocked over. It was promising to be a hot and dry day, and the women had their parasols open as they trundled down the track towards town. In an attempt to dress up for the event, Dean had worn his finest pinstripe shirt, and he even got Kate to starch and iron the detached collar that had wilted from lack of use. He wasn’t used to buttoning up all the way, and it was more than a little stifling in the summer heat.

He envied Adam, who wore bib overalls and a simple cotton shirt. Sam was somewhere in between, wearing his new trousers and a clean, white shirt, but no collar. Better to get away with it while he still could, Dean had advised. Kate wore a simple, serviceable light blue dress of muslin, a plain straw hat pinned to her hair.

And then there were the Shurleys. Castiel, of course, looked impeccable in a crisp suit, his waistcoat a swirling pattern of red white and blue, spotless derby perched on his head. Naomi wore a white shirtwaist, with a dove grey checked skirt. Her brown hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense bun, her bonnet plain straw, with a ribbon that matched her dress. Hael was significantly more ruffly, with a bright yellow frock with lace trim, her bonnet was also trimmed with lace with feather accents atop her artfully coiffed dark hair. Gabriel was more relaxed in  simple trousers, and a loose, white shirt. He wore an unbuttoned red waistcoat, and his moustache was heavily waxed. He’d been letting his light brown hair grow out, and it was slicked back under a boater.

By the time they reached the town proper, Castiel had foregone his jacket, Gabriel’s moustache was drooping, and the ladies were furiously waving away with folding fans. As soon as they got to the picnic site, they were happy to stretch their legs and find the nearest shade. Dean was dying to remove his collar, but he had this odd urge to show Castiel he wasn’t a complete slouch. He’d made sure his face was shaved as smooth as possible, and was wearing his best hat.

The picnic was crowded with almost every family from the surrounding area. Long tables had been set up for the dishes people had brought, and there was a firepit where they were roasting a wild pig. People sat on blankets or in chairs graciously provided by Benny’s hotel, and Harvelle’s goods store. Speaking of Harvelle, Dean spotted Joanna Beth with that ridiculous bird hat perched upon her head. He elbowed Castiel in the ribs and gestured at it, smirking.

“While I personally find the fashion of wearing an entire animal disagreeable, it’s quite in-trend to decorate one’s hats with birds,” Castiel said, keeping his expression neutral.

“Seriously?”

Nodding, Castiel led Dean to where someone was serving beverages. “Yes. In fact, before I returned home, I saw a woman in Boston wearing no less than three birds perched upon her hat.”

They reached the table, and were served a fruit punch. Dean took a long drink before replying, “Makes me glad I was born a man. Ain’t gotta deal with all the frills and crap.”

“Hmmm.” Castiel cast his gaze across the crowd. “Women do have many more layers to wear. And I don’t envy them the use of corsets.”

It didn’t take long before both men were swarmed by young women, and they found themselves separated. Jealousy flashed like a spike though Dean whenever Castiel turned his charming smile to one of the girls surrounding him. But of course they’d be after Castiel. He was older than Dean, closer to marriageable age, handsome; and since he lived on the other side of the river, he was rarely in their town. It was like watching carrion birds descend upon fresh meat.

Dean finally managed to get away by volunteering to help prepare the fireworks. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but there was a lot of planning involved, and some construction. As it got darker and what was left of the food was put away, Dean finally spotted Castiel by himself near the horses. The poor man looked disheveled with his hat off, hair mussed, and ribbon tie all crooked. He’d even unbuttoned his waistcoat.

Chuckling softly to himself at Castiel’s appearance, Dean stood next to him, thumbs tucked in his waistband. “Sorry about that, Cas. Should’ve warned you.” He suddenly remembered Castiel’s confession so many weeks ago, about why he gave up teaching. Now Dean felt bad.

“It’s alright Dean.” A corner of Castiel’s mouth twitched up. “Besides, I don’t think a certain Miss Harvelle quite fancies me so much anymore.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Well, last time I was in town, she was there when I dropped off those samples at the goods store. Today, she asked me what I thought about her hat.”

“Aww, Cas. Did you hurt her feelings?”

Castiel gave a low chuckle. “I told her as politely as possible that the next time she wished to wear a dead bird, to not purchase one via mail-order.”

That caused Dean to burst out in laughter, and he made the horses nearest them flinch. Holding in his laughter, Dean wheezed while folded over at the waist for a moment. Once he’d gotten his breath, he placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Don’t ever change, Cas.”

Castiel’s expression was so soft at that moment, that Dean had to turn away. He didn’t want to think about what it might mean. “C’mon, let’s go get ready to make some explosions.” Throwing an arm around Castiel’s neck, Dean led him to where they would be setting off the fireworks.

Later that evening, Dean and Castiel slightly deafened by proximity to the explosions, Gabriel drove them all back home. Sam and Adam stayed up front with Gabriel to keep him company, and Kate reclined against the side of the wagon, her straw hat in her hand as she lazily fanned herself with it. Naomi sat upright, but looked a bit more wilted than when they had arrived. Hael was near the front of the wagon, teasing the ears of the boys with a sunflower she had won during some girls’ games. Dean and Castiel were at the very back, feet dangling off the edge as they watched the dust the wheels kicked up disappear into the darkness.

Dean leaned back against the wooden boards and tucked his hat under his head, looking up at the stars. The ringing in his ears muffled the sounds of everything, and it was like being wrapped in an invisible blanket. By the light of the wagon’s lantern, he saw Castiel look down at him, then at the derby in his hands, a frown on his face. Using that thing as a pillow would definitely put a dent in it. Dean gave Castiel a huge grin, and poked him in the ribs. The man gave him a sly smile, then leaned back, tucking his derby under his head.

They smiled at each other, until Dean realized he was staring. So he cleared his throat, and turned to look back up at the stars, Castiel occasionally brushing against him as the wheels ran over rocks or ruts in the path. _Today was a good day_ , he thought to himself, feeling a warmth grow under his ribs.

By the time they got home, the ringing in their ears had died down. Hael and Naomi made their way across the plank bridge with Gabriel’s help, and Castiel paused at the riverbank. Dean got a laugh from him by trying to punch the Derby back into shape, but it was still a little lumpy from where Castiel’s head had dented it.

“Well Cas, that’s the best I can do. But it’s not my fault you used it as a pillow.” He handed it back, and their fingers brushed as Castiel took it.

“Thank you Dean. For inviting us, and for being such a wonderful friend.”

That soft look was on Castiel’s face again, and that warmth in Dean’s chest spread. “Ain’t gotta thank me for being your friend, Cas.”

Castiel’s head tilted to the side. “Do you know the only people who call me Cas are basically you and your family?”

“Seriously? It’s just easier to say. Do people go around calling you by your full name all the time?”

Castiel gave a small shrug. “Nobody in my family uses nicknames except for Gabriel, and he calls me Cassie.” He frowned, “And in college a few close classmates called me that as well. But mostly Mr. Shurley.”

Dean pursed his lips. “If you don’t want me to call you Cas, I can stop.”

“Oh no! I like it. I remember the first time we met, when we were boys. Our fathers shook hands, and introduced their families. And the boy named Dean, with the bright green eyes, called me Cas when he shook my hand.”

Once again glad for the cover of darkness, Dean felt his cheeks heat. He remembered that day well. They had watched the Shurleys build their house, and it was finished in late summer. It was the very first time someone had used a plank to cross the river, the day of their introduction. Castiel’s father, Charles, had introduced his family. Dean hadn’t liked Naomi, because she looked strict. Michael and Luke, while born at the same time, were like day and night, one with dark hair, the other tow-headed. Hannah was much like her mother, all prim and formal. Gabriel was eating candy and had grumbled when his father insisted he share. Castiel had caught Dean’s attention right away with the intensity of his stare, and those incredibly bright blue eyes, a different, more intense shade than anyone else’s in the Shurley family. Anna had unusually red hair done up in braids, and Hael was just a tiny thing.

Dean also remembered that Castiel’s father had gone missing a few years ago, and he wondered what happened to the man. He’d made a trip to the city to pick up some things they couldn’t get in town, and had never returned. They’d found his cart, minus horse, with a broken wheel. But the man had never been heard from again.

Unhappy with the sharp turn of his own thoughts about lost fathers, Dean made a quip, “Well, at least we have the river between us, or you’d have gotten tired of looking at this ugly mug all the time.”

“Dean! You’re not— I mean…” Castiel looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. “You know that you are not unattractive,” he mumbled.

Oh, was it Castiel’s turn to blush? With a soft punch to the man’s shoulder, Dean said, “You know you love me.”

At that, Castiel’s head whipped back up with a startled expression. Oh hell, he really said that, didn’t he? Dean tried to cover it up with a cocky smile.

“You _are_ my best friend, Dean,” Castiel said with a searching look.

Relief and maybe a little disappointment flooded through Dean. Yeah, he forgot that guys who dressed in suits all the time were more likely to use affectionate terms. It didn’t mean anything. He deflected with a self-deprecating quip, “You sure you want me to have that title, Cas? I’m just a guy on a farm.”

“Why do you think you don’t deserve praise?” Castiel pursed his lips, “You kept your family together after the loss of your father. You are an intelligent man who can calculate great sums in his head when it involves things that interest you. You are skilled with your hands, and work hard every day to make sure your family is comfortable. At the picnic, everyone seemed to be on good terms with you. If anything, _I_ should be honored that you deem to speak with _me_.”

It was Dean’s turn to blush at the praise. And maybe, in spite of his cocky attitude, he did feel like he wasn’t really worth what people thought of him. “Yeah, whatever.” He had a hard time looking back at Castiel, who had been gazing at him fondly the whole time.

“Well, I guess you should get home. It’s kind of late and all.”

With a nod, Castiel turned to cross the river. He turned back and said, “I really do consider you my best friend.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, thanks Cas. You too.”

That made Castiel grin, and he twirled the derby in his hands as he crossed the river. Dean watched as he walked to the house, then turned to wave before heading inside. That warm feeling had grown, and Dean turned from the river with a smile on his face.

The next couple of days, Dean couldn’t help but feel… good. He couldn’t explain it. Even though the weather was dry, and they’d had a small dust storm the day after the picnic, his spirits couldn’t be tamped down for long. The cattle were healthy, crops were doing well, and everybody was fine. And Castiel considered him his best friend. Even having to chase sheep across the river couldn’t spoil his mood.

One evening at supper, Sam commented on his demeanor, and had teasingly asked Dean if he’d met a girl at the Independence Day picnic. “What?” Dean had looked up from his plate, eyes wide. “Maybe… _you_ met a girl at the picnic. Shut up.”  Kate told Sam to stop teasing his brother, and gave Dean one of _those_ looks, that said Sam had a point. Dean had focused on his meal and tried to ignore the both of them.

The morning of July 7th, Dean was coming back from checking on his cattle when he saw Castiel cross the river, something colorful draped over his arm. Dean unmounted when he reached the house, and greeted his friend. Up close, he could make out the familiar colors of whatever Castiel had been working on his loom. Curious to see the final design, Dean led him inside.

“What brings you over here today, Cas?”

Castiel looked down at the item in his hands. “I finished this today, and wanted to see what you thought of it.”

It kind of looked like an Indian blanket. “Well, let’s take a look.” Dean took the colorful fabric and shook it out, holding it by the corners, arms wide. It really was well made, and used a similar design to Indian blankets.

He recognized the blues and blacks he’d seen from before, and now he could make out little black birds around the border. There was a large one at the center of the design, but it looked odd. “Hey, I don’t want to criticize your work, but did you forget the beak?”

“It’s… actually not a bird.”

“Oh? Then what…” Dean turned his head to the side, but the plain, black stylized shape didn’t give him any clues.

“Never mind. It was a stupid idea.” Castiel tried to pull the blanket away, but Dean held onto it.

“No, seriously. Because if it’s birds, they remind me of a rhyme I learned a long time ago.”

Castiel blanched at his words, and dropped his hands. Dean ran his fingers over the design, trying to remember the words.

“It was… let’s see. One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four a boy. Five for silver, Six was gold. Seven… Something about secrets that can’t be told?”

He looked over at Castiel, and the man was unnaturally pale, eyes wide. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Yes. Just… It was stupid.”

How many birds were woven into the design? Dean started counting, and there were six around the border. The one in the middle would make seven. Seven for a secret. Was whatever the thing in the middle was supposed to be a secret? He looked at it again and thought. Castiel and his siblings were all named after angels or something. Was that what was hidden?

“They’re angels, aren’t they. That’s the secret in your design, right?”

Castiel swallowed, and finally opened his mouth. “They are angels,” he rasped, “but that’s not…” He pulled the blanket from Dean. “Nevermind. Should have just made it a bird.”

“I really like this, it’s different. I was just wondering. Not like it’s a secret you’re all named after angels, though.”

“Thank you for looking at it.” Castiel didn’t bother folding the blanket, he just bunched it up in his arms. “I should go home now.”

Castiel turned to leave, and Dean knew something was wrong. He’d upset the man somehow. Following him out to the porch, Dean wondered what he should do.

“Hey, Cas,” He reached out and grasped Castiel’s shoulder, to try to get him to turn around. But when he saw those brilliant blue eyes rimmed in red, he let go. As he watched Castiel retreat to the river, Dean desperately tried to figure out what he’d done wrong. Did it seem like he didn’t like it? Had he inadvertently mocked Castiel’s hard work?

After watching Castiel stumble halfway across the river, Dean took off after him, determined to find out what was wrong. It was all his fault somehow, and if he could just get Castiel to explain what he’d done, he could fix it. He caught up to Castiel halfway to the house, and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn.

“Hey,” he chucked a knuckle under Castiel’s chin. “Look, I know I said something stupid back there. You wanna tell this chucklehead what he did wrong so I can fix it?”

Castiel still refused to look up at him, and looked in the direction of the river. “It’s really nothing. Seven is just a lucky number, and there _are_ seven siblings. That’s all.”

Dean still wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t know what else to do. “If you say so, Cas.” He let go of Castiel’s arm, and the man immediately turned away.

“Take care crossing the river,” Castiel mumbled as he headed toward the house.

The rest of the day, Dean tried to figure out what might have bothered Castiel. It left him distracted, and he didn’t do much other than wander around the property aimlessly. When he went back in the house that afternoon, Kate was busy preparing to make what looked like a peach cobbler.

“That looks good. Special occasion?”

Kate looked over her shoulder, but didn’t stop. “Actually, we’re going to the Shurleys for supper tonight, and I thought it would be nice to bring dessert.”

As if his day couldn’t get any worse, now he’d have to go spend an evening of Castiel avoiding him during a meal. “Any way I can convince you that I don’t need to go?”

Kate set down the peach she was slicing, and turned to Dean, knife still in hand. “Dean Winchester, you are going to go wash your face and neck, comb your hair, and find a clean shirt. Then you’re going to make sure your brothers do the same, and you all need to be ready by the time this cobbler is finished baking.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Well then! Confronting Kate about _not_ attending a meal while she was holding a knife was a bad idea.

By the time the cobbler was baked and was making the boys salivate with its delicious smell, Dean, Sam, and Adam were washed and ready to go. Kate made Dean carry the dish all the way to the Shurley’s front door.

Even when he was on good terms with Castiel, Dean didn’t like visiting the Shurleys. Naomi was too prim and proper, and everyone called her “Mother.” They were too formal, used too many forks, and Dean couldn’t put his elbows on the table.

Michael took the wrapped dish from Dean, and disappeared into the kitchen. Luke led them to a sitting room that Dean hated, because he felt like he was going to ruin something, as everything was draped with delicate lace doilies. This was not a room for grown men to lounge about. Hael was perched in a stuffed armchair, and looked completely bored while she worked on some kind of needlepoint or something. When she saw Sam and Adam, her face lit up. She squirmed in her seat until Luke left the room to go help his twin and mother finish preparing the meal.

“I’m so glad you guys are here! Mother insists I need to learn to act like a lady, but I’d much rather wear trousers and ride a horse chasing after cattle instead!”

That got a chuckle out of Dean. “Well, little lady. It’s not as exciting as you think. Yes, cattle are bigger, but they run around a lot less than sheep do. You’d probably even find it boring after a while.”

Hael pouted, “But what about wearing trousers?”

“Until society says so, it looks like you’re stuck with dresses. Even the few girls I met when there were still annual cattle drives wore skirts.”

Adam took the opportunity to chime in, “And besides, how else are we gonna know you’re a girl?”

The lighthearted banter that ensued allowed Dean to relax a little, but as soon as Castiel entered the room, his stomach plummeted. While still impeccably dressed, Castiel’s face looked drawn and a little pale. It made Dean feel terrible to think that he was the reason for his friend’s appearance, as if he wasn’t feeling well.

“Hael, please come help set the table,” Castiel said in a low tone, then glanced around the room, eyes sliding right past Dean as he did so. “Everyone, supper is almost ready.” He retreated, Hael in tow. “Thank you for accepting Mother’s invite. It’s nice to have guests.” With that, he closed the door with a soft click.

It wasn’t long before they were being ushered into the dining room. And as Dean had feared, there were way too many forks on the table. There was mutton with some kind of mint and garlic sauce, and a salad of tomatoes, onions, and cucumber in vinegar. Dean spent most of the meal staring at his plate, trying to not look up at Castiel across from him. Conversation was mostly held by Naomi and Kate, with occasional input from Michael and Luke.

At one point, Sam was asked about how he felt about the opportunity to attend college early, and Sam said that it would be weird, but at least he was tall enough to hopefully fit in. Naomi used the opportunity to brag on Castiel, and how he had also left for college early. At that, Dean looked up at his friend, and Castiel finally looked back at him.

“Yes, although sometimes I wish I had waited. I had my growth spurt much later than Sam.” Castiel held Dean’s gaze for a moment, and for that brief span of time Dean thought that maybe whatever he’d done hadn’t completely broken their friendship.

“I wish I could go to college early,” Hael interjected, pout once again firmly in place.

Naomi gave her a stern look. “Without a proper local finishing school, you will remain at home until you are eighteen. It’s not proper to have a young woman any younger than that off on her own unattended.”

Mood successfully shifted back into proper and uncomfortable, Dean finished the rest of his meal in relative silence, other than offering thanks and praising Kate’s cobbler. He offered to help clean the table, but Naomi insisted that it would be unheard of, since they were guests. Not sure what to do with himself, Dean excused himself and headed for the front porch, where he didn’t feel like he’d ruin something by looking at it the wrong way.

Looking up into the night sky, Dean found the stars he and Castiel had talked about before, the ones that had names for eagles. One flying, one falling. For some reason, it seemed sad to him that the two eagles were separated by the river of stars that made up the Milky Way. While he leaned against the railing, staring at the sky, someone came up next to him and stood silently for a moment. He knew immediately it was Castiel, by the way the person held himself, his breathing, his scent.

Castiel cleared his throat and said softly, “The eagle stars I told you about before? They also have other meanings in different countries.”

Humming his acknowledgement, Dean tilted his head to glance sideways at his friend. In the low light coming from the windows of the house, Castiel’s features were in relief, half in darkness, the rest in a soft glow. His expression seemed wistful and sad, and once again Dean felt low for making him upset.

“So, what’re the other stories, then?”

Eyes wide, Castiel turned to him. “I, err…”

“You ain’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to.”

Castiel recovered, and turned to face the night sky. “Sorry, I just find the timing… intriguing.”

Curious, Dean turned around to lean back against the railing, and crossed his arms against his chest. “You gonna tell the story, or what?”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but just then Sam and Adam came out onto the porch.

“Hey, Dean,” Adam said, “Mom’s gonna be along shortly, she’s letting us loose early.” The relief was evident in the boy’s voice.

“You guys go ahead, Cas was about to tell me a story.”

The boys glanced at each other before waving and dashing off into the night, small lanterns in hand. Dean watched as they danced like lightning bugs across the river and all the way back to the house, where a brighter lamp was lit. As soon as that one window glowed like a beacon, Dean looked back at Castiel with a raised brow.

“Suppose you want that story now?” Castiel asked.

There was a slight smile on his face, and Dean realized he’d listen to however many stories it took to make him smile again. But all he did was nod, and cross one foot over the other.

“Very well. There’s a Chinese festival, that has also been picked up by the Japanese and Koreans, and they hold that festival on the seventh day of the seventh month.”

“Why not just say July 7th, Cas?”

“Because they use a lunar calendar, so the dates are different. Just… let me tell the story, Dean.”

Before Dean could speak, it was Kate’s turn to show up on the porch. Naomi was behind her, and they exchanged parting pleasantries. When they noticed Dean and Castiel on the porch, Kate asked if Dean was planning on staying for a while or going home. Dean wanted to stay and finish the story, but felt the need to make sure that she made it across the river alright. Naomi called for Michael, who promised to see her safely across. When Dean tried to object, Kate held firm.

“It’s fine for you to stay, Dean. Just be careful when you cross, and don’t stay up too late.”

He walked with her a short way, and once they were out of the light from the porch, Kate turned to him. “I know something happened earlier today between you two, so take all the time you need to set it right again.”

She looked at him with a knowing smile, and patted his cheek. “You’re a good man, and Castiel is a good friend. You’ve brightened up since he’s been around, and it’s been good to see. Would be a shame to ruin all that.”

Smiling, Dean kissed her cheek, and watched as Michael led her to the planks that crossed the river. He was going to have to build a real bridge some day, if things continued like this. The thought of a permanent passage across the river buoyed Dean’s heart as he made his way back to the Shurley’s front porch. There, he and Castiel sat in chairs next to each other, and looked back up into the night sky.

“You sure you still want to hear the story?”

Dean nodded, and Castiel turned his eyes once again toward the stars. He explained the story had multiple variations, but the basis was the same. It was the story of a weaver girl and a cowherd.

“Kind of like a cowboy?” asked Dean.

With a brilliant smile that shone even in the dark, Castiel replied, “Very much like a cowboy, Dean.”

Castiel continued telling his tale, talking about how the weaver girl had fallen in love with the cowherd. After getting married, they neglected their duties. In punishment, they were separated by the river of the Milky way, with Vega as the weaver, and Altair as the cowherd.

“Cowboy,” Dean interjected, grinning at the association.

Castiel looked back at him with the strangest expression, hard to make out in the dark. Did Castiel not like Dean calling one of the characters a cowboy? Pensive, Dean continued to listen to the story.

“They pined for each other, unable to reach their love across the expanse of the river, unable to meet. Moved by their tears and cries, a flock of magpies took pity on them and made a bridge across the river.”

Castiel paused and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice sounded strained, “But because of the great distance, the magpies could only do this once a year.”

Dean sat back in his chair, contemplating the stars Castiel was just talking about. To be separated by someone you love, just across a river, but to never be able to meet them but once a year? That would be awful. Something about the story felt familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He hadn’t known any Orientals, and he doubted he heard the story on the trail. He looked at Castiel to notice the man wringing his hands in his lap. Did the story affect him so badly?

“Cas, you alright? It was a weird kind of sad story, but it’s not like they never get to meet, right?”

“Unless it rains,” Castiel mumbled.

“What?”

Castiel looked at him with what Dean would swear looked like… _disappointment_ in his eyes. “If it rains, the birds can’t come, and they don’t meet that year.”

“Oh.” Dean glanced up at the sky, and waved his arm at it. “But it’s a clear night tonight, right? So they definitely get to meet.”

He watched as Castiel nodded, but he still wore that sad expression. The same expression after Castiel had shown him the blanket. What was with this guy lately?

Castiel backed away, and grabbed the chairs to set them back in their original positions. “I’ll get you a lantern for crossing the river.” Not looking at Dean, Castiel disappeared into the house.

Dean stood there, not understanding what had just happened. He thought they were on their way to fixing whatever he’d messed up. What had he said wrong this time? While he thought about the problem, Castiel came out with a lit lantern, and held it out to Dean, looking away. No, that wasn’t how this was going to work. Dean would figure this out tonight, if he had to drag it out of Castiel.

“You carry it, until we reach the river. I still wanna talk to you.”

With a look of grim determination, Castiel nodded, and began heading straight for the river.

“Hey, wait!” Dean caught up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me, man. I know I’m not the best at feelings and all, but something’s got you down, and I can’t help fix it if you don’t help me out here.”

Castiel took a deep breath and turned to Dean, still refusing to look him in the eye. “It’s not something you can fix, Dean. This is something I must deal with.”

“That’s bullshit, Cas.” Dean was frustrated at the attitude. “You told me we’re best friends, and that’s what friends do, help each other work through rough patches.”

With a sad smile, Castiel finally looked him in the eyes. “I’m afraid this is something you can’t help fix, Dean.”

Searching Castiel’s eyes, Dean quirked up his lips in a little half smile. “We won’t know that until you tell me what it is, Cas.”

Castiel closed his eyes, a crease between his brows, and let out a long breath. “Please. Don’t.”

The pained look on Castiel’s face made Dean back off. It was frustrating knowing that Castiel had a problem but wouldn’t talk about it. He waved Castiel on, and followed behind. While they walked, Dean let his thoughts wander back to the past couple of days.

There was the blanket, and Castiel had seemed nervous. But then something happened, that Dean still couldn’t figure out, causing Castiel to run off. Then there was tonight, when it seemed things were going back to normal. Was everything tied together somehow?

Castiel reached the riverbank and turned to Dean, holding out the lantern. “You can return it later.”

As Dean reached for the lantern, he looked at the darkened crevasse that was the riverbed, and paused. _Wait a minute_. He looked up at the night sky, and the two bright points separated by a river of stars. Castiel’s blanket. The story tonight mentioned a weaver, and a cowboy. With a river separating them. Did Castiel…? Nah. That couldn’t be it.

 _Could it_?

Thoughts jumbled, Dean grasped the lantern, and their fingers touched. Castiel jerked away, and watched Dean cross the river. Each step across the planks felt heavy, and Dean kept wanting to turn back and ask questions, questions that Castiel probably didn’t want to answer. After reaching the other side, Dean turned to wave at his friend, who gave a halfhearted flap of his hand in return before turning to head back home in the dark. He promised himself he’d bring back the lanterns they’d borrowed first thing tomorrow.

After Dean got ready for bed, he lay there, thinking about what he’d learned. Surely the story was a coincidence, and it meant nothing. There had to be something else bothering Castiel, because the alternative… Well, that just wasn’t possible. When Dean eventually fell asleep, he dreamed of black wings, wide rivers, and blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had multiple people point out that the word "hotel" does not sound historically accurate. Everything I've found shows that the use of the hotels were fairly common back then, out in the more Western towns. 
> 
> Fireworks were expensive, and a rare treat for small, out of the way farming communities. Plus, considering how dry the area would get, an incredible fire hazard. 
> 
> The [story of the Weaver and the Cowherd](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanabata): I'm linking to a Japanese version of the story and festival, because it seems to cover it more succinctly. There are multiple variations, and Castiel would have heard the story possibly third-hand.
> 
> Please feel free to leave concrit! I wanna know if I mess something up too badly!  
> Compliments are also accepted :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROGRESS! Well, baby steps, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Great Expanding Fic strikes again.  
> But fear not! The end is in sight!  
> I should be able to finish this in 4 chapters total.
> 
> Completely unbeta'd chapter.

The next week was a blur to Dean, and he focused as much as he could on the smallest of tasks to keep himself occupied. When he’d gone to return the lanterns, Castiel had already left for town with Gabriel to help run the store, Naomi had said.  It bothered Dean that he hadn’t had a chance to talk with him again, and he’d dragged himself back across the plank bridge listless and heavy hearted. It wasn’t until Sunday that he saw Castiel again, coming back from church with the rest of his family.

In his usual dapper attire, Castiel didn’t even seem to glance across the river even once, as Dean watched them enter the house. This made Dean fret even more than before. What had he done to make Castiel avoid him? The plank bridge wasn’t currently in place, and Dean couldn’t think of an excuse for setting it up. With a sigh, Dean headed back into the house. Supper was almost ready.

The rest of the summer was hot and dry, the only rain coming with occasional storms that had a tendency to do more damage than they helped. The cattle grazed dry, summer grasses, the wheat grew, and Dean indulged Sam, encouraging him to act childish while he still could. All the while, he tried to figure out why Castiel was still avoiding him. It’s not like the guy visited home very often anymore, either. Except for the occasional Sunday dinner, Dean rarely saw Castiel, and even then it was just the man going to and from the house and the buggy.

It wasn’t until Dean had gone into town to find some replacement parts for the thresher, and other things needed in preparation for harvest, that Dean started to get a clue. He was in Harvelle’s General Store, and Joanna Beth was gossiping with a girl Dean usually tried to avoid. Becky Rosen. She was strange, and always gave Sam looks that were much too full of longing. Not to mention all the times Sam had complained about her trying to get him in a room alone.

Dean kept himself busy with the Sears, Roebuck & Co. catalog while listening in.

“I’m telling you Becky, it was the saddest thing I’d ever seen. She gave him a monogrammed handkerchief.”

There was a gasp, “And what did he do?”

Joanna groaned, “He told her that the monogramming job was passable, but he didn’t need any more handkerchiefs.”

“No!”

“Yes! She came back to town in tears, with a bag full of candies from his brother for her trouble.”

“The poor thing. But I’m not surprised. Especially after what he said about your hat.”

That caught Dean’s attention, but just then Bill brought some of the supplies he’d asked for. By the time he got to resume listening, the girls had progressed further in their gossip.

“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he is either recovering from a broken heart, or is, you know… a _confirmed bachelor_.” Becky hissed the last part in some kind of conspiratorial whisper.

It obviously meant something to Joanna, because she made some kind of high pitched noise. “Where did you get this information, Becky?”

Dean hauled his sack of smaller parts out to the cart, and came back in for the strapping to redo the horse harnesses. He chanced a glance in the girls’ direction, and saw their animated expressions. When he got close enough again, he overheard, “And _she_ says that he barely leaves his brother’s shop. She sends me regular letters once a week, and fancies herself to one day becoming the American Jane Austen.”

Leaving behind the tittering gossip, Dean tossed the last of his supplies into the cart and headed for home. During the drive, he let the things he’d heard filter through his thoughts. It seemed a girl got turned down by a man. He lived out of town with his brother, who owned a shop, and said brother gave the girl candy. This man had made unflattering comments about Joanna Beth’s hat. Was it possibly Castiel?

Reaching the outskirts of town, Dean relaxed the reins and allowed the horse to find its own pace. She knew the way home from here. His thoughts wandered back to the conversation in the store. If it _was_ Cas, had he really had his heart broken? It would certainly explain some of his earlier behavior. But Cas had never mentioned a sweetheart before.

The thought of Castiel sending and receiving love letters from a mysterious woman sent an unfamiliar spike of jealousy through Dean. He ignored the feeling, and continued to replay the discussion in his mind. What did it mean to be a confirmed bachelor? Was that something akin to a monk, except non-religious? Dean knew that most of the religious men around, pastors, ministers, and the like, were allowed to take wives; and Castiel’s family wasn’t Catholic or anything. Of course, he had heard of men who chose to never marry, but they were usually old enough to have the younger ladies stop throwing themselves at them. A young, handsome man such as Castiel though?

The thought of Castiel being brokenhearted surfaced again, and the ping of jealousy settled under Dean’s ribs like heartburn. He continued to try to ignore that feeling, because there was no reason for it. Castiel was a friend, and that was all. There was nothing else there. Was there?

Unable to resist, Dean played back their interactions at the beginning of July. All the long looks, the soft smiles. How Castiel had reacted over Dean’s seeming lack of interest about the blanket. The stories of the stars, and the lovers separated by a river. Ugh. Dean was going to give himself a headache with all this thinking, and the spot in his chest kept getting larger, going past heartburn to feeling like something was lodged in his throat.

Nope, there was no reason to believe that Castiel felt anything for him beyond platonic friendship. With that in mind, Dean took a deep breath and shifted the reins in his hands. As long as Castiel’s feelings were platonic, Dean wouldn’t have to look too closely at his own. Perhaps someone had broken Castiel’s heart, and that was why he was acting weird, and wouldn’t talk about it?

The little surge of jealousy was easier to ignore this time, as Dean thought of ways to cheer his buddy up. Maybe a trip into one of the larger towns, after harvest? Dean knew some women who owed him a favor or two, and wouldn’t mind showing Cas a good time. With a small smile on his lips, Dean formulated a plan.

* * *

 

Wheat harvest time rolled around, with the Turner and Winchester families banding together to complete the arduous task. They couldn’t afford the steam-driven reapers or threshers, so they used horse drawn machinery to complete the tasks, as well as their own sturdy backs. Everybody had a part to play, and each night, they slept hard both in exhaustion and in preparation for the next day ahead. Once they were finished, Dean took a day to rest and to formulate his plan.

That Sunday, Dean crossed the river in anticipation of Castiel’s family coming back from church. Sure enough, they all came in the cart on schedule, with Castiel as prim and proper as ever. Dean caught the look of surprise in Cas’ eyes before the man schooled his expression. Gabriel was the first to hop down, greeting Dean with too-forceful pats on the back.

“Hey, Dean-o. What’re you doing on this side of the river on a Sunday?”

Dean clenched a fist, and swallowed a retort. He hated the way Gabriel said his name, but he needed to play it as friendly as possible in order to keep Castiel agreeable.

After taking a deep breath, he said, “Well, the harvest’s over, and Sammy’s going to college soon. I was hoping…” He gulped here, because almost the entire Shurley clan was listening. “Well, Castiel knows what he’ll need, so if you’re not too busy,” he looked up at Castiel, whose eyebrows had risen in interest. “Do you think you could come with me to Smith Center and help pick out some supplies, after unloading the crop, Cas?”

Castiel blinked back at him blankly, and Dean’s palms began to sweat. He was going to say no, and the plan would fall apart. Dean watched Castiel swallow, then open his mouth to speak. Just then, Gabriel interrupted.

“Hey, Cassie! This is a great opportunity for you to go pick up some things for me as well! This way I can avoid having them delivered.”

They all turned to look at Gabriel, who wore a devious grin. Castiel spoke up, a frown on his face. “I don’t know—”

“Aww, c’mon,” Gabriel interrupted, “You’ve been cooped up for weeks above the shop, and you just finished your last order, too. It’ll do you good to take a trip, get out for a while.”

He waggled his eyebrows and winked at Dean. It was Dean’s turn to frown as Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder. “You going to stay for supper and hash out the details of your trip? Hmmm?”

“Uhh,” Glancing nervously at Castiel, who still wore a disapproving frown, Dean shrugged off Gabriel’s hand. “I actually need to help Kate finish cooking. And, um,” he tilted his head in Castiel’s direction, “If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to Cas. Just figured I’d ask.”

As Castiel continued to stare between Gabriel and Dean with a frown, the rest of the family began to shuffle inside the house. The longer Cas stared, the more Dean’s confidence deflated.

“Yeah… So, I’m gonna,” Dean nodded his head towards the bridge, his insides wilting with rejection. “Sorry for bothering you.”

He turned to leave, and hadn’t made it more than a couple of steps before he heard shuffled feet and terse whispers. “Dean, wait.”

Turning around, Dean saw Castiel coming forward, a crease between his brows and looking anywhere but at his face.

“I need some supplies myself, and it would to be nice to have the chance to look at something not out of a catalogue.” Castiel clasped his hands, and ground the heels of his palms together. “And besides, if I don’t pick up whatever Gabriel needs, he’ll go get it himself, and I dislike running the shop in his absence.”

They both looked at Gabriel, who grinned, waggled his fingers, and headed towards the house. “I’ll leave you kiddos to work out the details,” he called over his shoulder. Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes.

Dean and Castiel stood there, looking at each other for a moment. Castiel carried a look of frustration and puzzlement, and Dean was nervous, unsure what to do. Honestly, he never thought he’d get this far, sure he’d be turned down. When he finally found his tongue, Dean said what he’d been practicing in his mind.

“Look, I understand that you have things happening you don’t want to share, and I won’t try to pry into whatever it is. Just, know I’m here if you ever do want to talk. Alright?”

Castiel blinked at him in surprise. “Thank you, Dean.” Just that was enough to create that fluttering in his stomach again.

There was another moment of awkward silence, before Castiel said, “When do you plan on leaving?”

“Well, I can leave as soon as tomorrow morning, but if you need to go back into town to pack…”

Raising a hand, Castiel interrupted, “No, I have some clothes here. This shouldn’t take more than a couple of days, correct?”

Dean figured, if they got the grain unloaded as soon as they got to Smith Center, they could spend the evening in town, and then get what they needed the next day. If they were quick about it, they could get back before nightfall. _If_ everything went smoothly. But in Dean’s experience, something was always bound to go wrong.

“Yeah, but plan an extra day, just in case.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Castiel nodded, and they fell into a more comfortable silence.

Dean rocked back on his heels, and added, “And think about wearing something a little less fancy during the trip, since we’ll be hauling grain.”

After looking down at himself, Castiel nodded. “I understand, Dean. If you don’t mind, I should probably start packing.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Yeah.” Dean took a couple of steps backward, and Castiel patiently watched as he nearly tripped over a rock. Heat flushed his face as he sent an awkward wave, then turned to cross the river. It was as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. Weeks of wondering what was wrong, and it seemed fixed with a short conversation. With a smile, Dean hurried over to go tell Rufus they’d be heading out first thing tomorrow.

After sunrise, both Dean and Rufus had carts laden with spring wheat. Rufus, his son Carl, Sam, and Dean were ready to go in comfortable, collarless shirts, and rugged trousers. Castiel showed up in much nicer clothes, but he insisted what he was wearing was fine for travel. He looked like a businessman among peasants, and Dean hoped they weren’t robbed along the way.

Kate and Joelle had packed them lunches, and after some brief farewells, they started off. With the morning sun at their backs, Dean was comfortable in his loose shirt, bandana, and felt hat, but it wasn’t an hour before Castiel was shifting uncomfortably, having shed his jacket as the sun warmed them. His stupid derby offered no protection to his neck, and Dean passed over a spare bandana. Castiel frowned at it before undoing the collar of his shirt, and fussing with how to tie the knot of the bandana. Dean chuckled at him, and tied the reins to the handrail long enough to get the thing properly adjusted around his neck. When knuckles grazed Castiel’s neck, Dean tried to ignore the occasional quick intake of air, and had to bite his lip as he finished the task.

It was slow going with their full carts, and they made sure to stop whenever they could let the horses get a fresh drink near a river. They ate lunch in their seats as the scenery rolled by, and made it to Smith Center just after midday. Dean sent Sam with Castiel to get them a couple of rooms for the night, and then followed Rufus and Carl to go weigh and sell their grain. By the time they had everything settled in late afternoon, Dean was ready for a wash before heading out for some fun. Castiel had found a nice hotel that offered a tub bath service, and Dean was eager to soak in some hot water.

While Dean had been busy, Castiel and Sam had already started looking for school supplies. Sam had insisted there was a lot he could get when he got on campus, but Castiel explained that while some things should be purchased near the college, many items cost more on the East coast, so they should take advantage and try to get some things in town.

Dean, Sam, and Castiel were sharing a room, with Rufus and Carl next door. After going over the lists of things they needed to get in town, Dean untied his bandana, and undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt. While he dug through his rucksack for a change of underwear, he looked over to see Castiel staring, eyes wide and lips parted. That look caused a fine shiver to erupt over Dean, and he shook it off.

“Hey, you gonna hit the baths with us?”

Castiel’s eyes focused on Dean’s and it was like he’d snapped out of a trance. “Oh, I think I…” he cleared his throat, “I’ll have mine later, if you don’t mind.”

With a half grin, Dean replied, “Well I plan on soaking until I’m wrinkly. Not often I get to relax in a big ol’ tub I didn’t have to fill myself.”

Castiel’s features relaxed into a heartfelt smile. “Then enjoy yourself. There are still some things I need to do before tomorrow.”

Dean made good on his word and stayed in the tub until the water got cold and his fingers almost hurt with how wrinkly they’d gotten. After his bath, he took the time to shave and comb his hair. By the time he was re-dressed and ready to go get some supper, he’d sent Sam off with Rufus and Carl. He was on a mission to cheer Castiel up, and he wanted it to be just them. If he took a little extra time making sure his hair looked good without a hat, well… that was just because they were going out on the town.

It was already mostly dark by the time Dean and Castiel stepped out of the hotel and they headed to one of Dean’s favorite places. Smith Center, while not a major commerce hub, was big enough to warrant a couple of places that ignored the state temperance laws, and served liquor and beer. And had pretty women serving and dancing.

When they walked in the door, Dean wore a smug grin. This had been a great idea. They found a seat in the corner, and he told Castiel to stay seated while he got them some drinks. At the bar, while he was getting them a couple of beers, Dean found one of the girls he knew, and he told her what he wanted to do.

Back at the table, Dean set down a couple pints and sat down. Castiel looked nervously around the room, at the women whose necklines were too low, and whose skirts were scandalously short. When he stated that obvious fact, and asked Dean why they were there, Dean’s smile only grew wider.

“Just relax, buddy. We’re here to have a good time. Dinner and a show. You telling me they didn’t have anything like this back East, and you never let loose while you were in college?”

Castiel frowned at him. “I spent my time in college studying, Dean.”

Just as Dean was about to comment on Castiel’s lack of social life, a lovely waitress in a black and pink dress served them the meals he’d ordered at the bar. It was Rhonda, and Dean was very familiar with her. They flirted shamelessly, until he realized Castiel looked uncomfortable.

“Hey, sweetheart, let me and my friend eat, and then maybe we can catch up over dessert?” Dean gave her a suggestive wink, and his ladykiller smile. She giggled, and he watched her skirts sway as she left. Oh, yeah. As soon as he had Cas occupied, he might just spend some time with Rhonda.

“Sorry about that, Cas. You should dig in, before it gets cold.” Dean started eating, and Castiel didn’t seem to have much interest in what was on his plate.

“Hey, if you don’t like what I got you, we can see about something else,” Dean said around a mouthful of bread.

“It’s not that,” said Castiel as he pushed the food around on his plate. “I just seem to not have much of an appetite.”

Dean waggled a finger at him. “You and Sam snuck off to the sweets shop while we were unloading the grain, didn’t you?” That would explain why Castiel wasn’t hungry.

But Cas didn’t answer, he simply sighed, and picked up his fork. Dean kept up a one-sided conversation, prattling on about all the things he wanted to show Cas while they were in town. He was growing frustrated in his efforts to get Castiel to relax. And since the guy didn’t seem to like beer, Dean was wondering if they’d have to break into some harder liquor.

As Dean mopped up his plate with the last of his bread, a pretty blonde with white ruffles swished over to their table.

“Hi, Dean. Who’s your friend?” Right on time.

“Hey, Chastity. This here is Castiel. Say hi to Chastity, Cas.”

Castiel set down his fork, and politely wiped his mouth as he finished chewing. “Hello, Chastity, how are you this evening?”

Chastity simpered, and placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Oh, such a gentleman. I didn’t know you knew anybody but farmers and cowboys, Dean.”

Dean felt his grin grow wide. “Yep, he’s college educated and everything. Ain’t that right, Cas?”

Eyeing his beer, Castiel pushed his plate away and nodded. Chastity trailed her fingertips down Castiel’s arm, and he stiffened, eyes widening at Dean. “I bet you _really_ know how to treat a lady right, don’t you?” she said, licking her painted lips.

Cas only seemed to grow more tense, the longer she hovered over him. Dean watched her trace her eyes over Castiel, and he had the sudden urge to yank the guy out of here. But that would defeat the whole purpose of coming, and he knew Chastity would take real good care of his friend. Even if he felt weird about it for whatever reason.

With a sweet smile, Chastity asked Castiel, “Would you wanna be my dance partner tonight, honey?”

“Uhm,” Castiel glanced around, noting that nobody was dancing. “I’m not very good with dances.”

Chastity giggled behind her hand. “You’re cute. I’m going to go talk to my friend over there, and I’ll be right back.” As she walked away, she trailed fingers through Castiel’s hair, ruffling it.

Dean grinned at Castiel’s confused face. “She likes you, Cas.”

With a frown, Castiel toyed with his napkin. “I didn’t come here to go dancing, Dean.”

What… Wait, did Cas think…? “Um, you know she didn’t mean like go to a dance hall, right?”

“Then what kind of dancing _did_ she mean?” Castiel asked, squinting.

Dean’s smile grew lopsided, and he winked while tapping the end of his nose. “The kind of dancing that happens in private, with nobody watching.”

“I don’t understand what you’re ref…” Castiel pauses, and tilted his head, eyes narrowing even more. “Dean, did you bring me to a den of iniquity?”

Dean sat back, satisfied that Cas finally got where the evening was headed. The guy grabbed the beer he’d mostly ignored earlier, and quickly downed it, his eyes growing wider as the drink disappeared. Maybe Cas was just nervous. The beer should help with that. Glancing around the room, Dean saw Chastity and Rhonda giggling at each other. Yeah, tonight should be a good night. As the girls broke apart and Chastity headed back over, Dean leaned toward a very anxious looking Castiel.

“Listen up. Just relax, and have a good time. Don’t get too creative, just relieve some tension.”

Castiel jumped when Chastity’s hand landed on his arm, curling around and giving a tug. “C’mon, handsome. I can show you some moves.” He gulped, but led her lead him away from the table, and up a set of stairs near the back. Before he disappeared out of sight, Castiel glanced back at the table, where Dean waved at him with a smile.

But after he disappeared around a corner, Dean felt his smile slip, and  a sour feeling swirled in his gut. He told himself that everything would be fine, that there was no reason to feel bad about letting his friend have some fun. Arms around his neck and a lapful of Rhonda helped distract his thoughts, and Dean faced her, grin back in place.

“Oh, is that how this is gonna go?”

Rhonda practically purred, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You’re not in town enough, sweetheart. I need you to show me a real good time.”

And on that note, Dean was ready to get out of his chair and do exactly that. He helped her off his lap, and stood up. They made it to the base of the stairs, when there was the bang of a door slamming open above, and rushed footsteps. Castiel appeared at the top, disheveled and looking like he’d seen a ghost. He practically ran into Dean head first on his way down. But Dean grabbed his arm, and swung him around.

“Hey,” Dean said, looking into Castiel’s wild eyes, “What’s going on? You okay?”

Castiel’s breathing hitched as he swallowed. “I’m sorry, Dean. You enjoy the rest of your night. I… I have to go.” With that, he tore his arm free and dashed out the front door, into the night.

Dumbfounded, Dean blinked at Rhonda, and then up at Chastity who was now at the top of the stairs. She wore a dissatisfied frown, shrugged at them, and turned with a huff to stomp back to her room. Well that didn’t turn out like he’d planned.

Looking apologetically at Rhonda, Dean said, “Listen, I hate to do this, but I really should go after him, see what’s wrong.”

With a pout, Rhonda nodded. “You go on ahead, honey. Besides,” She grabbed his rear, “You know where to find me.”

Dean nodded, and dashed out the door in search of Castiel without a second thought. He found him a couple of buildings down, sitting on the edge of a porch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. If he hadn’t been looking for him, Dean might have passed right on by. Unsure what to do next, Dean stopped a couple yards away, and slowly sidled up to Cas, before sitting a good arm’s distance away. After a moment of watching a man on horseback pass by, Dean spoke up.

“So, what was all that about back there?”

Castiel flinched, and turned his head to look at him. Dean couldn’t make out much of his expression in the shadows. “You didn’t have to follow me, Dean.”

With a huff, Dean leaned back on his hands. “Man, you were obviously upset about something, and I’d be a shitty friend to not at least check up on you.”

Castiel straightened up, and Dean could see the tight set of his jaw in the low lamplight. “Well, you’ve checked up on me, and I’m fine. You can go back to…” He waved his hand in the direction of where they’d come from. “To you evening’s entertainment.”

There was definitely something in Castiel’s voice. One of those fancy words, like disdain. But why would he feel that way? Oh. Suddenly Dean remembered how religious Castiel’s family was, and how Cas might not want to keep himself company with a working girl. Shit.

“Aw Hell,” Dean muttered.

“Look, Cas. I’m sorry. This was supposed to cheer you up. I didn’t think you’d… That this would bother… I’m an ass.”

Castiel looked at him then, eyes searching. “You’re telling me that tonight was specifically designed for me?”

“It seemed like a good idea when I thought of it,” Dean mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why?”

“I dunno, man. You said you didn’t wanna talk about whatever was bothering you, I get that. But then I hardly see you, let alone talk to you, for weeks. And then I—” No, Dean, don’t tell him about what you heard. “I just thought you might want to… you know. Spread your wings or something.”

“At a house of ill repute,” Castiel deadpanned.

“It’s not like we can just go courting here. Besides, you know what it’s like. You’ve been with women before, right?”

Castiel looked away. Wait a minute. “What? You mean you haven’t…”

“I’ve never had occasion,” Castiel grated out, refusing to look at Dean and rubbing the back of his neck.

Whoa. That was something Dean wasn’t expecting. Unsure what to say next, they sat there a moment longer. Eventually Dean shifted, uncomfortable because the uneven boards he was sitting on were making his butt fall asleep. He stood up and smacked the dust off the back of his trousers.

“Well, since that was a bust, how about you say we head back and get some shuteye for tomorrow?”

With a nod, Castiel stood up stiffly and dusted himself off as well. Dean patted his shoulder. “So are you mad at me?”

A small smile ghosted its way across Castiel’s lips. “No Dean, I’m not.”

And that, that was good. Some of the tension in Dean’s stomach loosened, and he threw an arm across Castiel’s shoulders as they made their way back to where they were staying. If he ended up leaning in close to catch Castiel’s scent, nobody had to know.

* * *

 

The next day, Dean joined Castiel and Sam with their shopping, and they found everything they needed to send him off to college. Sam got a new suit, which Castiel first frowned at, but he promised to take measurements, and send Sam something better later. When everyone’s shopping was completed, it was early afternoon, and they planned on getting back with their carts unburdened from the heavy load of grain they’d brought, in time for a late supper. As they rolled along, Sam and Castiel discussed what he could expect at college. Dean soon found himself lulled by the rocking of the wagon and conversation.

They were about halfway home when the cart lurched and listed to one side, a wheel having come off.

“Shit!” He pulled back on the reins. “Whoa there!”

Rufus, driving the cart ahead of them, realized something was wrong and came to a stop. By the time he reached their cart, Dean was rolling the detached wheel back from where it had landed. It looked like the part that held the hub to the axle had worn loose. While inspecting the cart, it looked like there was a crack in the axle support, too.

“Shit,” Dean swore, frustrated he hadn’t noticed there was something wrong before now.

They were in the middle of nowhere, and it wasn’t like they could just go find new parts. After a discussion about what needed fixing, and what could be done with what they had, Rufus offered to go on ahead, and see about getting replacements. Dean thought he might be able to get things fixed enough to limp home, so they unloaded all their purchases to Rufus’ wagon, and Dean insisted Sam go with them, too. They could unload, and then someone could ride a horse back for Dean, if he didn’t get it fixed in time.

Castiel didn’t like the thought of leaving Dean alone, and insisted he would stay. Dean tried arguing with him, but then he remembered how they’d found Castiel’s father’s wagon, abandoned on the side of the road, no trace of the man or where he’d gone. Yeah, maybe Cas could keep him company.

They waved as the others departed, and Dean hunted for a suitable piece of wood to whittle down for a cotter pin to hold the wheel in place. Castiel inspected the axle, then suggested a belt might help hold things together long enough to get home. By the time they were finished, the sun was starting to set. When Castiel climbed out from under the cart, his trousers were dirty, and his shirt was streaked with the grime that builds up around the underside of a cart. Dean laughed when Castiel swiped at his cheek, leaving a streak behind.

“Here,” Dean said, handing over his bandana.

Castiel accepted it, and wiped at his face. He missed most of the dirt, so Dean took over, scrubbing the streak from his cheek. With a chuckle, he swatted at Castiel’s hair, where he’d managed to get dirty there, too. Oh. Without any pomade, the dark locks were soft, and Dean found himself running his fingers through it, giving Castiel a windblown appearance. In the light of the setting sun, Castiel was bathed in a golden glow, and he looked ethereal.

A warm feeling burned in Dean’s chest, and everything else seemed to fade around them. One hand still combing through Castiel’s hair, he brought up the other hand with the bandana, and traced along the slightly stubbled jaw, thumbing the contours. He glanced into Castiel’s eyes, and they were what he’d always imagined the ocean looked like, deep blue glinting in the golden light. It was as if there was something magnetic in those eyes, pulling him closer, so he could smell the scent that was uniquely Castiel, warm and herbal.

The spell was broken when the horses, impatient with being immobile, shifted and snorted, causing the harness and traces to jingle and creak. With a cough, Dean stepped back, and Castiel drew in a sharp breath, dropping his hand where it had been clinging to Dean’s sleeve. Both men blushed, and Dean mumbled something about getting back on their way before climbing up onto the bench.

The rest of the trip went slowly, and they sat side by side on the bench as they carefully avoided the worst parts of the road, trying to not jar their makeshift repairs or anything else loose. Dean expected an uncomfortable tension after having got caught staring at his friend like that, but instead, Castiel was a warm presence at his side. There was the beginning of an autumn chill, and the air grew colder as the light leached out of the sky. They stopped long enough to put on their jackets and light the lanterns, and they leaned into each other for the rest of the trip in companionable silence.

They arrived back at the Winchester home late and hungry. What had once been comfortable turned awkward as they pulled apart in front of others, and had a cold meal while explaining what was wrong with the cart to Kate. Afterward, Dean walked Castiel to the bridge, and crossed over with him. There was an odd kind of tension between them, and he had this urge to not let the other go just yet.

As they crossed the plank bridge, Dean was lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out what he could say to make Castiel linger just a few minutes more. He wasn’t paying attention to his feet, and his heel slipped off the edge, leaving him teetering over the empty darkness and the river below.

“Dean!”

Castiel grabbed his arm, and hauled him onto the bank to safety. They clung to each other, Castiel with a firm grip on Dean’s upper arm, Dean’s  hand clinging to Cas’ elbow, the other wrapped around Castiel’s waist. Both were breathing heavily from the brush with disaster. The edges of the riverbank were high, and this late in the season, the river was shallow. In the dark, it would be easy to land wrong and break a bone.

Dropping the lantern, Castiel gripped the back of Dean’s neck. “Are you alright?” he asked, face inches away from Dean’s.

All Dean could manage was a nod, as he realized they were now even closer together than they were at sunset. Castiel’s breath was warm on his face, and the next thing he knew, warm lips were pressed against his. It only lasted a brief second, and then they were gone, leaving Dean’s lips tingling in their wake. Dean forgot how to breathe, and he felt Castiel give his arm and neck one final squeeze before letting go.

Dazed, Dean blinked slow, and noticed the panicked look on Castiel’s face. before he knew it, Castiel had backed out of his grasp, and had disappeared into the darkness. Dean stood there, trying to process everything that had just happened. He’d almost tripped off the bridge, and Castiel had pulled him to safety. After, they’d clung to each other, and Cas had… Dean pressed fingers to his lips. Had he imagined the kiss? But then why else would Castiel run off like that? His head was full of noise, as conflicting thoughts swirled through his brain. He wanted Cas in his arms again, to feel those lips on his. But Cas was a _man_. And… and… religious. And two men together…

He shook his head to clear it, and stared toward the Shurley’s house, a soft light emanating from the windows. Had Castiel made it inside safe? Would he ever want to see Dean again? What was that kiss about? Head still abuzz with questions, Dean picked up the lantern, and carefully made his way back across the plank bridge.

Almost back home, Dean stopped and looked up at the stars. It took him a while to locate the ones he wanted, Vega and Altair. After he found them, he thought about the stories he’d been told, and what it could possibly mean for him and Castiel. Everything suddenly had a new meaning, if he dared to think of it that way. He rushed to get ready for bed after getting back inside, and he lay on his mattress, determined to speak with Castiel tomorrow before he could run off again.

The next morning, Dean was awake before dawn, and he prepared himself to go talk to Castiel. He washed his face, combed his hair, and even shaved. After putting on his best shirt, he came out of his room to see Kate giving him an odd look.

“You planning on fixing the cart looking like that?”

“That will have to wait. I need to go over to the Shurleys for a bit. I’ll have breakfast when I get back.”

Before he could lose his gumption, Dean dashed across the river to Castiel’s front door. He knocked, to have Michael open the door and greet him.

“Dean. To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence this morning?”

He’d thought long and hard about what to say when he got here. “I need to head into town to fix my cart, so we wanted to make sure all the things for Cas and Gabriel got delivered.”

“Oh.” Michael stepped aside. “Come on in, and I’ll inform Mother. Gabriel is here, but he is a late riser.” Michael frowned at that. “As for Castiel, he should be awake. Let me go find him for you.”

Dean was led to the sitting room, and he paced while he waited. After a couple of minutes, Luke entered the room, a frown on his face.

“Mother has invited you to breakfast, while we wait for Gabriel to wake up. Castiel however,” Luke’s forehead creased, in what had to be a family trait. “It appears he is feeling unwell after returning, and is not accepting visitors.”

Heart dropping to his stomach, Dean blinked at Castiel’s brother. Was he being avoided? Considering what happened in July, it wouldn’t surprise him. And now, he was trapped into having breakfast with the creepily formal older brothers and mother. Swallowing his pride, Dean accepted the invitation, and asked Luke to let Castiel know he hoped he recovered soon, and would like to visit when he was feeling better.

Breakfast was torture, as Dean remembered to chew with his mouth closed, keep his elbows off the table, and to not slurp his tea, TEA! too loudly. He wished he’d waited to have breakfast at home, but he didn’t want to arrive to find out Castiel had fled back into town. No, instead, he was on the receiving end of stern looks, Hael’s giggling any time his manners weren’t up to snuff, and he was having tea instead of coffee. Michael and Luke discussed the chores for the day, as Naomi sat at the head of the table, prim like a queen.

Near the end of the meal, Naomi turned to Dean. “Would you happen to know what might be ailing my Castiel, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean carefully laid down his silverware, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well ma’am, it was a bit chilly last night, and we had a late supper. Maybe it’s not settling well after eating so late?” He prayed she’d accept his answer, even though it made Cas sound like a wilting flower.

She nodded at that, and gave him her full attention. “I understand that you had some trouble during your return?”

“Yeah, I mean, yes ma’am. It took a while to fix, but we made it back okay. Cas— Castiel insisted he keep me company, and I was glad to not make the rest of the trip alone.”

Naomi’s eyes clouded over, no doubt thinking of her missing husband. “Castiel always had a penchant for helping others at his own detriment.” She frowned and looked at her plate. “If you don’t mind, I have chores to attend to.” She glanced at Michael, “Make sure Gabriel is up before long. He does have a business to run, after all.” With a nod to Dean, she said, “Thank you for joining us for breakfast. Luke will help you bring across whatever Castiel purchased. We apologize for any inconvenience my sons have caused you.” At that,  she stood up and left the room.

Hael looked around, her eyes wide. “She’s not in a good mood,” she whispered, “And now my sewing lessons are going to be even harder.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Dean mumbled.

It didn’t take long with Luke’s help to haul across the things Gabriel had ordered, and the bolts of fabric that Castiel had purchased. With that done, he didn’t have an excuse to linger on the Shurley side of the river, so he saddled up Baby, and headed over to see Rufus. They agreed to have Dean pick out what he needed, and Rufus would bring it back in his wagon. That left Dean plenty of time to think during his ride to and from town.

While he waited for the replacement parts for his cart to arrive, Dean hurried through his daily tasks, then sat down at the table with some paper and a pencil. He had an idea percolating, and spent the better part of the afternoon plotting it out. When Rufus arrived, they spent the rest of the day repairing the damage to his cart, and inspected it for anything else that might go wrong.

As soon as Rufus headed home, Dean had gone up to his room with his sheets of paper, and finalized his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, feel free to give concrit, or just tell me your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy conclusion to our story, with bridge-building, a couple more kisses, and making an unconventional family work in rural Kansas in the late 19th century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who didn't give up on me for taking so darn long to finish this.  
> I think I'm finally recovering from the writer's block that struck me so hard at the beginning of this year.  
> Un-beta'd.

The next morning, Dean set off for town in his newly repaired cart, and came home hauling an impressive load of timber. He had the boys help unload everything, and then he showed them the plans.

“You’re building a bridge? But why? The planks work,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot of work. But I want to get it done before you leave for college.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, then looked down at Dean’s drawings. It was actually pretty good. He was making it wide and sturdy enough for a horse-drawn cart, would have sturdy side-rails, and he was building gates to keep the sheep off of it. He looked back at the piles of wood he’d helped unload.

“Is this going to be enough?”

Dean gathered some digging tools, and eyed the bank on their side of the river. “It will be, to get us started. Once I’ve got the main structure finished, I can go back for the floor boards.”

They spent the rest of the day plotting the location of the new bridge, and they worked on either side, using shovels, hoes, and mattocks to set the base-logs that would support the ends of the bridge into the earth. As the sun began to set, they had the supports ready for the cross-beams that would make up the main part of the bridge. Whenever Dean was asked about why he was building it, he would shrug off the question, try to change the topic, or make up some excuse about just thinking it was a good idea.

The next couple of days they labored over the bridge, and enlisted the help of Rufus, Carl, and even occasionally Michael and Luke. It wasn’t long before it was usable, the fresh planks wide and sturdy, and they tested it by driving Dean’s cart across to go pick up the final lumber for the side rails and the gates to keep out the sheep. Dean had chosen to go to the town on the Shurley side of the river, claiming he wanted to see what their town had to offer for a change. Sure, Dean had made the trip to their town the long way around before, but coming from further upriver was an interesting experience, and he was more than a little nervous about possibly seeing Castiel.

Dean arrived Saturday afternoon, with just enough time to pick up supplies before the sawmill closed. As he made his way back through town, he saw the front sign for Gabriel’s store, and figured as long as they were still open, he could use a few more supplies. Maneuvering his cart out of the way, he stopped and watched the storefront for a minute. A couple children dashed out of the door ahead of their mother, stick candy in their mouths. He fiddled with the strings of his coin purse, took a deep breath, and made his way inside.

Gabriel’s store smelled different from Harvelle’s. It was sweeter, and there wasn’t the overpowering odor of saddle polish, sawdust, and rawhide. The building was also smaller, and it seemed to be more specialized for home goods. As Dean got closer to the counter, he could see a large array of hard candies in glass jars lined up. And then there was Castiel. He was behind the counter, weighing out what looked like dried beans for a little old lady.

Dean did _not_ hide, he just… hung back near the edge of a shelf, and watched the interaction.

The lady was talking about how best to make a pot of beans, and Castiel listened attentively, with a polite smile. He was wearing a collarless but crisp white shirt, and a blue waistcoat. She thanked him when he handed over her purchase, and Castiel waved goodbye as she left. When she was gone, Castiel lifted his sack of beans, closed it, and hauled it back to storage. Dean took the opportunity to walk up to the counter and wait for his return.

As soon as Castiel stepped behind the counter, he looked up, straight into Dean’s eyes, his own wide with surprise. Dean couldn’t help a cocky little grin.

“I’d like a half pound of ten-penny nails, and six sturdy gate hinges.”

Castiel stared, unblinking, before he finally managed to breathe out, “What are you doing here?”

“Gee, it’s good to see you too, Cas.” Dean pouted his lips a little in mock hurt.

“I, uh…” Castiel blinked, and gripped the counter. “You surprised me.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Thumbs through his belt loops, Dean leaned back and looked around. “So where’s Gabe?”

Castiel looked away, and rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s out courting this evening. I promised to close up for him. Speaking of,” He glanced at the clock. “I should be doing that soon.”

Nodding, Dean rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Sure. You able to get me those nails and hinges?”

“Oh, of course.”

Castiel darted around, gathering what Dean asked for. While he was weighing out the nails, he asked, “So why _are_ you here, when you could have easily gotten these in your own town?”

“Oh, well I’ve been working on a little project. Figured I’d stop by and invite you to check it out tomorrow, if you’re free.” Dean tried to not hold his breath as he waited to see how Castiel would answer.

And he was made to wait as Castiel carefully poured the weighed nails into a sack, and rolled it down, staring at his hands during the whole process. Dean couldn’t help but feel nervous, and Castiel continued to avoid looking him in the face while he calculated the cost. He gave Dean the total, and didn’t look up until their fingers brushed when payment was handed over. When he did look up into Dean’s eyes, he looked almost frightened.

“You— you want me to come by tomorrow?”

God, his eyes were so blue. “Yeah, Cas,” Dean said softly, “you’re going to have Sunday dinner at your mother’s, right?”

All he got out of Castiel was a small nod, but Dean would take it. With a wide grin, Dean said he’d see Cas tomorrow, and he bounded out the door with his items in hand. It wasn’t until he was past the last of the buildings of the township that he relaxed his shoulders and let out a long sigh. That could have gone better, but it could have gone much, much worse. All he had to do was wait for Castiel to show up and hopefully get a real conversation out of the man. It was dark by the time he crossed the new bridge back across the river, and he took his time wiping down the horse, making sure she was comfortable in her stall before heading into the house.

Early the next morning, Dean was out by the bridge, cutting the wood for the railings and gates. He hoped to have at least the Shurley gate up before they got back from church.

When they arrived in their cart, Dean had just finished installing the hinges. As usual, Gabriel was the first out, whistling at the endeavor, and telling Dean he’d done good. Naomi frowned at Dean’s audacity to do physical labor on a Sunday, but admitted the bridge was well made.

“Just put down that hammer until tomorrow. Today is the Lord’s day of rest.”

Dean didn’t particularly care either way, so he shrugged and waved as the Shurleys drifted inside. Except for Castiel, who lingered by the bridge, derby clasped in his hands. He frowned at the structure, a crease between his brows. He seemed perplexed by it. A little nervous about how Castiel might feel about it, Dean rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“So, Cas. Whatcha think?”

Castiel jerked his head to face Dean, snapping out of his thoughts. “Hmm? Oh. Mother believes in whatever the pastor says, but the Sabbath is traditionally on Saturday, from a historic standpoint. Personally, I don’t believe God cares whether we are productive during the weekends or not.”

_What_? “No, I mean about the bridge.”

Derby twirling between his fingers, Castiel focused hard on his hat, mouth pulled down in a frown. “I don’t understand why you felt it was necessary.”

_Oh_. Dean had been hoping for a better reaction. Had he messed up, read things between them wrong? Again? “I was hoping it would make it easier for everybody. Smith Center is the closest main rail hub, and you can cross here faster than taking the county bridge so far down South. And it’s nice to have access to two towns, right?” He shuffled his boots, soles scuffing across the rough boards of the bridge. “And I got tired of the planks, okay? After nearly falling off the other day, I thought it was time for something permanent.” There was emphasis on the last word, and he glanced at Castiel for his reaction.

Castiel’s expression was a mix of hope, worry, and awe. “Dean, I—” His mouth opened and shut a couple of times, before he gave an exasperated huff.  

“You know what?” Dean asked, hit with inspiration. “I think your mother might be right. How about I pack up my tools for now, and we go for a little ride?”

Castiel agreed, helped Dean put away his tools, and stacked the pre-cut lumber off to one side for later. Dean led him to the barn, where he saddled up Baby, and the buckskin that Sam would usually ride. After telling Kate they were going for a quick property tour, Dean took Castiel down to one of the nicer places where they took the cows out to pasture. It was a small valley, with a cluster of apple trees along  a small creek. The cattle were currently elsewhere, so it was just the two of them, and the horses.

The apples were just starting to ripen, and they gave the horses the freedom to graze grass and fallen fruit. Dean leaned against the trunk of a tree, and watched as Castiel nervously plucked the leaves off of a low hanging branch. While it was easier to talk about what he needed to out here, it was still hard looking at Castiel, so Dean turned to face the creek, shoulder resting against the bark of the apple tree. He tried to look casual, but his heart was in his throat.

“About the other day…” He heard feet shuffle in the grass. “I, um… was wondering…” Why is this so damn hard?

“I need to apologize, Dean.”

_Oh_. Dean closed his eyes and let the disappointment wash over him. He should have known better than to get his hopes up. Clearing his throat, Dean said over his shoulder, “No reason to apologize for anything, Cas.”

“No, what I did was in the heat of the moment, and then I ran away. I took advantage of the situation, and was unwilling to face the consequences, like a coward.”

_Wait a minute_. Blinking, Dean turned to face Castiel. “Hold up. Are you apologizing for kissing me in the first place, or running away after?”

Castiel gave a one shouldered shrug, and stared at his feet. “Do you want me to apologize for both?”

Hand scrubbing his face, Dean gave a heavy sigh. They were both damn messes. “Cas,” he said, turning to face him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen. You and me, we need to be honest with each other. Got that?”

Eyes wide, Castiel nodded.

“So. What do you want?” Dean asked, looking into Castiel’s eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous to hear someone’s answer.

After a gulp, Castiel managed to say, “I want you to not hate me.”

Well that was weird. With a half smile, Dean tried again. “Why don’t you want me to hate you?”

Castiel took a deep breath and closed his eyes before replying, “Because I have feelings for you.”

And that made Dean’s heart do all sorts of acrobatics. His legs were about ready to give out on him in relief, but this wasn’t quite over yet. Dean knew what he wanted to say, but his throat closed up around the words. Castiel deserved so much more than anything Dean could offer him. Not to mention they were two _men_ living in rural Kansas. They could never expect to have anything resembling a normal relationship, or even go through proper courting. Not to mention how Castiel’s mother -possibly his whole family- would feel about it.

As the silence continued with Dean standing there, hand on Castiel’s shoulder, Castiel finally opened his eyes, and they were filled with hurt and resignation. He backed away in silence, and slipped from Dean’s hold. But Dean still stood there, frozen with indecision, the choice too much.

As Castiel turned away, he whispered, “I… I’ll go on ahead.” He paused for a breath, and with a heartbreaking quiver in his voice said, “I’m sorry.”

That broke Dean’s paralysis, the thought that he’d done this, and here was Castiel, apologizing. He rushed up and wrapped his arms around Castiel, who he could feel trembling.

“Don’t,” he whispered into Castiel’s ear. Turning him around, he cupped Castiel's face in his hands.

“Don’t _ever_ say you’re sorry.”

He pressed their lips together, and Castiel practically melted in his arms. Dean felt like his feet weren’t even touching the ground. When they both finally separated for air, he wrapped his arms tight around Castiel, and promised he’d never let go. Yes, they had a whole lot to figure out, but they’d do it together.

* * *

_  
Two years later, mid-summer._

Dean and Castiel were in Junction City, taking the rare chance to get away. They’d hopped a train and gotten as far as they dared from home, and were enjoying the opportunity to be away from the watchful eyes of everyone they knew. Ever since that confession under the apple trees, they’d done what they could to make each other happy.

Castiel learned about cattle, and would spend time with Dean out watching the herds. Dean learned how to shear sheep, and helped out in the spring. During harvest season, Castiel helped reap and thresh wheat. In the meantime, Castiel continued with his small sewing business, and had begun making a tidy profit, since he could more easily access two towns, and he spent more time in his family home.

Their relationship had not been easy, however. The strain of having to hide their love affair from practically everyone took a strain on them both, and there had been a time when Dean had thought it was all going to end. They’d argued about something stupid, and Castiel had gone off to help Gabriel run his shop, again.

After an entire week of brooding, Kate had insisted Dean help her with the laundry, and dragged him down to where she did the washing. She let him take out his aggressions on his underpants for a while, then stopped him before he could do the same thing to one of her skirts.

She sat him down and explained that she knew there was something between him and Castiel, and he had panicked. But she told him she didn’t mind, even if she didn’t quite understand. With her encouragement, Dean had the courage to go talk to Castiel about trying to make it work. They’d found a way to spend time away from everyone else, so their relationship wasn’t strained from the need to constantly hide it.

That was the reason they were in Junction City. It was far enough that nobody knew them, but close enough to travel comfortably by train. While they were taking a stroll down the main street, a young woman in a colorful frock caught their attention. She had flame-red hair, and was handing out fliers for some kind of traveling show. This seemed to excite Castiel greatly, so Dean promised they would catch the show that evening. Before they could continue, the girl stopped them and produced a flower from behind Dean’s ear. She then whispered he should give it to his friend.

Dean mumbled a thanks, and had dragged Castiel along with him down the street. But a block later, that flower found its way to a buttonhole on Castiel’s jacket.

That evening, they visited the travelling show, and enjoyed the magical talents of Celeste, the red-headed girl, and Gilda, a dark and exotic beauty. These two talented young women could produce doves from apparently thin air, and Gilda made Celeste disappear, who then later reappeared at the back of the audience. Dean was impressed, and Castiel was entranced during their whole act. After the show, Castiel insisted they talk to the women, as he was impressed with both their magic, and the quality of their costume design.

What had started out as a brief meeting in their tent turned into dinner at their hotel, where they fascinated the men with tales of their travels. It turned out that Celeste was from Topeka, and she’d met Gilda during a circus show. After dinner, they found a place in the hotel’s sitting room, and Castiel bombarded Gilda with questions about stitching and ruffles. Dean was trying to get Celeste to tell him how she managed to disappear, when she threw an apparently random question at tim.

“How long have you two been together?”

Dean sputtered for a moment. “Wh-what?”

She gave him a sly grin. “You two are obviously good friends. How long have you known each other?”

“Ahh, well… We grew up kind of near each other, but then he spent four years in college, and a little while as a teacher before settling back home.”

She gave him a look that made him feel she could see right through him, and Dean shivered. “And let me guess. Inseparable ever since?”

He could feel his neck grow warm. “I wouldn’t say inseparable, but…”

“Really close.”

“Yeah.” He gestured between the women, hoping to draw the attention away from his and Castiel’s relationship. “You and Gilda?”

Celeste bounced in her seat. “Oh, the year after I saw her at that circus, they came back to town and I begged her to teach me. I joined the circus and learned her tricks. It was just recently we set out on our own, and we have been inseparable since.”

She reached out and took Gilda’s hand, who squeezed it, and gave her a warm smile. Dean had a thought that they were more than just close friends, and gulped. Castiel gave him a knowing smile, understanding his discomfort.

“I have a question,” Castiel asked, turning to face the women. “Working alone -or as a pair, rather- how do you fend off the inevitable sexual advances of rowdy men?”

Celeste grinned, and Gilda  gave him a sly look. “Let’s just say, we fight dirty. Besides, knowing magic tricks and sleight of hand has its advantages.”

“Even so,” said Dean, “You two just invited the two of us to dinner. How can you trust us that much?”

Celeste and Gilda shared a look, then Celeste answered, “Are you kidding me? You two are definitely more into each other that you are about us. Just the way you look at each other...”

That made Dean panic, and he sputtered through a denial before Gilda raised her hand.

“Calm down. As entertainers, we know how to read people. While you may not be obvious to most, you kind of stick out for us, for obvious reasons.” She gave Celeste’s hand a squeeze. “Your secret is safe with us.”

While Dean still felt exposed and uncomfortable, Castiel replied, “Thank you very much for your discretion and understanding. You understand why this would be a sensitive subject for us.”

After Dean got calmed down, they chatted well into the evening. The next morning, they shared breakfast, and then parted ways, as Celeste and Gilda were heading to other destinations that day. Castiel gave them his contact information, and offered to help design a costume. They had one more day in town before heading back home themselves.

* * *

It was October when Castiel showed up at Dean’s doorstep, looking very excited.

“What’s got you all riled up?” Dean asked, letting him in before giving him a long, loving kiss. Adam was over with the Turners, and Kate was in town.

Castiel shoved an opened letter into his hands. “Read it!”

The letter was from Celeste, and the women would be stopping in Smith Center for a couple of nights. Since the weather was changing, winter soon upon them, they were hoping for a visit before they ended their tour until spring. Dean looked at the date they would be arriving, and it was in less than a week. Of course they would go.

They went to Smith Center to meet the girls, and enjoyed the magic show from front row seats. Gilda and Celeste had added a levitation trick to their act, and Dean was determined to figure out how they did it. After the crowds cleared out, they all went to the hotel for drinks. While Dean was pestering Celeste to tell him how they did their tricks, Gilda interrupted with the clearing of her throat.

“It’s going to be too cold for travel soon, and we were wondering if you knew of any good places to stay for the winter.”

“Seriously? You don’t have a regular place you stay?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I left home, and Gilda had the circus before we started our own act.” Celeste shrugged.

“If I may make a suggestion,” Castiel was tapping a finger to his chin, “My brother has a couple of rooms for rent above the store. If you don’t mind staying in a small town for the winter, I’m sure arrangements could be made.”

Blinking in surprise, Dean interjected, “Are you sure? Gabe can be a bit…”

“Crude, yes I know.” Castiel nodded, “But considering what we know of these ladies’ proclivities, I believe them uniquely suited to dealing with my brother’s antics.”

The girls sounded absolutely thrilled at the idea, and decided an overnight visit was in order. The next morning, they all piled into Dean’s wagon, and he was surprised that Celeste actually owned normal clothes when she turned up in a white shirtwaist, with a brown skirt and matching jacket.

“What?” She elbowed him in the side. “That was my performance clothing, Dean. You can’t expect me to wear that _all_ the time.”

When they arrived back at the homesteads, Dean introduced the girls to Kate and his brothers before heading over to the Shurley house. Both Gilda and Celeste exhibited perfect manners before Castiel’s mother, who eyed them critically before inviting them to tea. Dean normally hated formal tea, but the girls kept everyone entertained. While Naomi seemed a bit scandalized at their profession, and ability to seemingly pull sweets from behind Hael’s ears, even Castiel’s oldest brothers seemed delighted with their company as they were able to get up-to-date news and gossip from across the region.

Before they knew it, the sky was darkening toward evening, and the girls were invited to stay the night. They accepted gratefully, and were shown their rooms, giving Castiel the time to walk Dean home and sneak a couple kisses before going back.

The next day, they went into town to see about renting the rooms above Gabriel’s store. Gilda was a shrewd negotiator, and Celeste was enamored with the tiny town. There was a coach headed back out of town that afternoon, so the girls promised to let them know when they were heading back, as they boarded the carriage.

Early November they returned, with all their possessions in a couple of very large trunks. Dean and Castiel visited frequently, both as they had become fast friends, and because they could be themselves around the two women. As winter settled, rumors of Dean and Castiel courting the girls flew through both of their hometowns. Gabriel, who had quickly figured out what was really going on, found it hilarious and added to the rumors. Castiel had panicked when he’d initially been confronted by his brother about his relationship with Dean, but Gabriel insisted that he didn’t care one way or the other, as long as Castiel was happy.

By the time spring had arrived, a plan was hatched to continue the ruse. After the girls went back on tour, they frequently sent letters, and sometimes small gifts. The letters were frequently perfumed enough that their nosy postmasters helped add to the romantic notions that Dean and Castiel were courting Celeste and Gilda.

The girls even made a point of stopping by a couple of times throughout the year, and made a show of pretending to be couples with the boys. It wasn’t that difficult, because they enjoyed each other’s company.

Another autumn came to pass, and Celeste and Gilda occupied the same rooms as before. After the first snow, Celeste shocked Dean when she proposed marriage.

“What?!?”

They had been enjoying a quiet afternoon in the common room above Gabriel’s store, and Castiel was sketching a pattern with Gilda’s suggestions. They both looked up to see what had caused Dean’s outburst.

“It seems perfectly sensible,” Celeste stated, “We don’t want to be doing the magic act forever, without a real place to settle down anyway.”

“But, marriage?” Dean asked, still completely stunned at the suggestion. Gilda seemed to know what was going on, and Castiel stared at them with wrinkled brow.

“Look, Dean. We can’t be who we really are most of the time, and neither can you. So why not arrange a fake marriage, get people off of our backs? After all, everyone already thinks we’ve been courting for over a year.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, while Celeste seemed perfectly at ease. But then the absolutely craziest thing happened yet: Castiel turned to Gilda and asked, “Gilda, would you consider becoming my wife?”

They’d lost their minds, all of them.

And so their worlds descended into chaos, as the dual betrothals became the subject of nearly everyone in both towns that winter. Well-wishers, as well as the occasional jealous young woman, stopped by Dean’s home, Castiel’s house, and even the store. Dean supposed that some of the women wanted to see who was taking two of their boys off the market.

When spring arrived, the girls set off again, with the promise of spending more time with Dean and Castiel between stops. In between the usual tasks that kept them busy in spring, Dean knew they had to build a house. That was the biggest part of the plan. They would be expected to either live with the boys’ families after marriage, or new houses would need to be built. So they had chosen a location far enough downriver from Dean’s family’s house that it was visible, but would give them privacy. It would be large enough to accommodate both couples who would be sharing the dwelling, but as two separate young families. It was just finished in time for Celeste and Gilda to finish their last tour.

They had a double wedding in Castiel’s family’s church, and while rings were exchanged in the appropriate manner, the partners the vows were meant for were not the ones the audience were aware. As both couples settled into their new home, Dean was proud of his planning skills. He’d built the house to be divided down the middle, with bedrooms far apart on opposite sides, so the respective couples could be intimate without disturbing the other.

Gilda assisted Castiel in his clothing business, and under both their skilled hands, it flourished. Dean continued his farming and raising cattle, like normal. Celeste took to writing stories and wrote about women in lovely friendships, with more heavily suggested within the subtext. They were published as great Sapphic novels that secretly discussed intimate relationships between women. It wasn’t surprisingly difficult, considering how close friendships could be.

While at times, they hated the need to lie about their marriages, Dean and Castiel were fast friends with Celeste and Gilda, so it wasn’t a burden too heavy to bear, if it meant they could be themselves at home.

The next year, Sam came home from college, with his own fiancée that he’d met there. He had decided to open up a small law office in Smith Center, so he could be close to family. Adam decided he didn’t need to go to college, and took over the responsibility of farming, leaving Dean to focus more on animal husbandry, and breeding a better herd of cattle.

Over the next couple of years, Celeste’s novels became popular, with Gilda and Castiel’s clothing patterns being sold internationally. With the help of cooperative weather, their crops and cattle were doing very well, and they were happy.

* * *

It was the evening of July 7th, and Dean and Castiel were stretched out on a blanket behind the house, hands entwined. The sun had just set, and as they gazed at the stars, Dean remembered that story told to him long ago, about the weaver and the cowherd. The blanket that Castiel had woven then, with the black birds, sat draped across their bed. Dean traced his thumb over the starburst pattern engraved into Castiel’s wedding band, a match to his own. It was a physical reminder that while they were lawfully married to the women of the house, their hearts belonged to each other.

He kissed Castiel’s hand, and rolled over onto his side to watch his love’s profile in the moonlight.

“You know what?”

“Hmmm?” Castiel turned his head and smiled at Dean.

“That story about Vega and Altair? They just needed to learn to build their own bridge.”

Castiel grinned, and pulled Dean in for a kiss.

 

After a few moments, he pulled away. “Dean, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

The crease between Castiel’s eyebrows appeared, and he said, “Gilda wants a baby.”

With a groan, Dean rolled onto his back. “That explains why they’ve been acting so strange lately.”

He’d noticed that over the past couple of days, Celeste and Gilda have been avoiding each other. Having thought it was just a normal argument, he hadn’t thought much about it, until now. But he knew Castiel’s own mother, as well as most of the townspeople, have been asking when children would bless one or both couples. This subject was bound to come up eventually, because it would seem odd if neither couple produced a child. He’d just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.

“Does she really want a child, or is the pressure of other women getting to her?”

Castiel was quiet, and Dean could tell he was giving it some thought.

“I think,” Cas started, “She seems to want this entirely on her own. She said she wouldn’t have even brought it up to me if she wasn’t sure.”

“And I suppose Celeste ain’t too happy about it, huh?”

Castiel rolled on his side, “Considering the actions necessary for making a baby, do you blame her?”

Dean stopped to think about it. If Celeste had come to him about it, how would he feel? He’d want to help her, of course. But could he even… Yeah, Celeste was practically his best friend, but… to have sex with her? They’d both have to be pretty damn drunk, and even then he might need Castiel’s help. And the thought of Cas having to help him have sex with another person… Just no.

And that brought him to the other side of things. What if he ended up having to help Castiel prepare for this, mentally or physically? He swallowed, and closed his eyes. It wasn’t like Castiel really wanted to do it, and it would just be to have a baby. So that shouldn’t make him feel jealous. But Dean knew by now that sometimes should and reality didn’t always line up.

He grabbed Castiel's hand, fingers twined together. “I guess not, but… If you really want to help with this, I’m behind you.”

Castiel raised their joined hands and kissed Dean’s knuckles. “You’re the one with sexual experience with women. Maybe you should be the one to do this.”

That made Dean snort. “Oh, no. We’re not going to try to explain if that baby comes out with green eyes and anything other than dark hair. This is all you.”

He heard Castiel groan, so he squeezed his hand. “Guess we should go inside and talk to the ladies about this?”

Looking over, he could just make out the frowny pout Castiel made before he nodded. “I suppose we should get it over with,” Castiel said before sitting up.

“Yeah.”

They folded the blanket, and before heading into the house, Dean pulled Castiel in for another kiss. As long as they had each other, they’d find a way to get through anything. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, concrit and comments are greatly appreciated!  
> Now that the story's over, I want to show you what sprouted the plotbunny for this fic:  
>   
> [[source](http://theoldentimes.com/cowpokes.html)]  
> Can't you picture Castiel in Dean's lap?


End file.
